You, who gave me their hand when I fell, now I'll hold it for you.

OKAY.......... im gonna talk about my time at TFcon!!! This is the hardest thing I've had to do all year but it was part of my exposure therapy exercise and it was A HUGE STEP FORWARD!!! it didn't cure me of course and I'm still not touching TF for the time being, but I SURVIVED and I'm hoping that this means I am FINALLY able to take many more steps forward now!! because I did one of the hardest things ever in terms of exposure therapy this was HUGE FOR ME!!!! 🥳🥳🥳🎉🎉

I'm gonna gush mostly about the good parts like getting to meet my favorite artist (I STILL CAN'T GET OVER THAT BTW THEY WERE SO PRECIOUS) and meeting TFP Shockwave's voice actor (HE WAS SO NICE)!!!!! :D

So this started bc I offhandedly mentioned to my c-ptsd therapist/specialist that there's a TFcon happening a couple hours away and that I was so depressed about it, because I knew that if things turned out differently this year - if I had never met my abuser - I would have loved to go. It would have been a heavenly experience. It used to be my biggest source of comfort, especially for self shipping. Nothing has given me joy the way TF used to. I don't go a single day without feeling such a massive sense of loss, like a part of me is missing. So I was venting about that and it would weigh heavily on me more and more as the convention date approached closer

And my specialist said "...you should go" and I laughed. She stared at me. I paused... then said "oh, you're serious?"

I went back and forth on it for six weeks, finally I decided it would be good if I went because I literally can't make my association with TF worse at this point, and if this is supposed to help me get better, then uhhh sure I'll do it. I don't even want to hope to self ship into TF again, I'm not even dreaming that big, I just want to be able to stop flinching every time I see a goddamn fictional alien robot from the fictional planet Cybertron 😭😭 the BARE MINIMUM please lol

My specialist told me I should try to be there for 15 minutes, and if I can handle that, stretch it to 30. And I thought to myself, WOW, that seems like a lot of minutes. I can't even handle reading the word "transformers" on my worst days, or seeing a picture of a character without getting nauseous, but sure, let me go to a building full of characters... what could go wrong :)

My dad agreed to drive me and to be there with me while I'd be in the building bc he knew this was important to me. We needed to be awake by 7am bc it was a 2 and a half hour drive. I hardly slept; if I wasn't having a "F/O is trying to physically harm me" nightmare, I was stress vomiting. I kept saying "I'm not doing this. I'm not doing this. I have to work today, I haven't slept, I'm not going, this is so stupid of me, why do I think I can handle this??" but then I thought about how heavy my red energon necklace feels on me, how my autographs and cameos and experiences with the TF voice actors feels so numbing, how I can't even look at someone as sweet as Bumblebee without having this firm genuine belief that he'd want to kill me. and I thought about how much I hate... how different I am, how my greatest comfort was ripped away from me so violently, how I don't go a single day without crying over it -- and how I said I'd be willing to do anything, anything to change that. so I got in the car and I had my head between my knees the entire time just trying not to get sick

So we get to the building to check in our tickets, I'm seeing all of these people wearing TF cosplay and t-shirts. One person had a TFP Starscream figurine and I immediately got teary and needed to look away. A person standing in front of me in line had an Optimus backpack and I kept trying to do my grounding techniques, where i'm supposed to remind myself that I'm safe and that Optimus loves me and he wouldn't want anyone to hurt me etc etc but it's so unbelievable to me. But I had to keep repeating these dumb mantras in my head and then I hear these people behind me, talking so openly about how much they love Megatron -- and I thought to myself, that's so fucking surreal to me??? I forget what it feels like to be safe around these characters. Like, what do you mean you don't look at Megatron and think he'd kill you and do vile things to your body? What do you mean somebody didn't drill horrific thoughts into your head? Just me? I'm the only person here who genuinely, wholeheartedly believes that these characters would want to kill me? What do you mean you feel loved and safe? What does that feel like? What do you mean, you've never had someone show you repeatedly that you're so unworthy of basic respect, much less love? I don't know what safety feels like anymore. I'm never relaxed around ANY F/O now, regardless if they're TF or not. I've forgotten what it's like to be comfortable. It took me over a year to finally relax around my IRL friends that I've had for over a decade without having some sense of paranoia that I'd be betrayed (which is a c-ptsd symptom. woohoo)

So we get into the actual convention building, I immediately start getting weepy. There's, of course, robots everywhere. Posters, figurines, merch, whatever. Everywhere I turn, there's a trigger. I mean, obviously, I knew this. I was prepared. But I still felt like I was emotionally getting hit by a truck every time I turned my head. So I went to the corner of the room so I wouldn't be in anyone's way and I had to work on breathing. And I was just, crying and facing the wall, saying "dadddd there's transformers everywhere" and he smiles and says "uh yeah I'd hope so? it's the transformers convention we're not here to see a football game" LMAO

So then I just kept walking around feeling like I was gonna throw up. You gotta fake it til you make it. I just kept telling myself these characters would love me so much, even though I didn't believe it at all. We reached the back of the building where they had like... four writers and two voice actors? And I was reading the banners above the tables, and one of them said "David Sobolov: TF Prime: Shockwave; Bumblebee 2018: Blitzwing" and I was like HUH? and my dad, not knowing anything about TF, pointed at him and asked "oh is that an important guy?" I said "yeah that's a voice actor" and he said "oh that's huge! that's like a real actual voice actor? let's go say hi!" I said NOPE

Looking at the photo of Shockwave on the banner immediately made me nauseous. I was thinking, wow I'm gonna throw up right here right now on this Decepticon/Autobot-printed carpet, in front of all of these nice people who are having a good time. So I turned around and walked away, but I noticed my dad wasn't following me -- he went to David's table and he said "hey my daughter loves your work with trans... trons..." and I was like OH. NO so I speed-walked to the table and David gives me this big, friendly, sweet smile and says "hi Keri! so nice to meet you! your dad was just telling me about how you love transformers! do you like shockwave?" I smiled, lied through my fucking teeth saying "Yes. I. Love. Shockwave. :)"

And I'm seeing these pictures of Blitzwing and Bumblebee and I'm like, trying so hard not to cry in front of this very nice man who has much better things to do than talk to some messed up girl who can't look at fictional characters without thinking she's about to get sucker punched. I turned around, hoping to god someone would be standing behind me so I could tell them "hey, why don't you go first? I'm still deciding" BUT NO. NOBODY WAS THERE??? The one time I go to a convention where there's NO LINE. It's just me and David. And it was just me and David for several minutes. I should have been so overjoyed about that but I was just,,, feeling so physically ill. I kept saying to myself, when we're done with this interaction I'm leaving, we're driving home, I can't do this anymore.

And David was being so nice!!!! He was like, so smiley and joyful?? And he kept telling me fun facts about the Bumblebee movie but I don't remember ANY OF THEM because I was just nodding and smiling while thinking to myself "don't fucking throw up!!!" and then I looked at his price sheet on his table where he sells autographs and photos and stuff and I thought, oh my god I'll be so fucking rude if I don't buy something, because this dude just gave me like ten minutes of Bumblebee movie fun facts that I don't remember whatsoever. And I was stuttering so bad when I asked him to take a photo but he was so sweet about it. We took a photo... and before the photo was snapped, he used the Shockwave voice to say "Keri... you are... logical :)" and I thought to myself... oh. That... oh. I never... would have imagined Shockwave would say something like that to me. And then I felt so sad, because it's so unbelievable to me. I kept waiting for the catch, for something bad to happen - I don't even know what could have happened but I was so tense, waiting for something terrible to come.

I said thank you and we walked away. I told my dad "I'm gonna throw up" and I went to the nearest restroom and I was just, dry heaving and sweating but nothing was coming out. A few minutes afterward I walked back over to my dad and I said "okay let's leave, I'm done here, I'm DONE" and he said "it hasn't been 15 minutes yet. are you sure you want to leave" and I was like "shit!!!!!! no I paid $60 for this I'd better see this through. A few more minutes then"

So. I pass by a few booths and I'm barely glancing at them. I'm trying to breathe. I'm shaking profusely. I'm on the verge of tears. I'm not having a good time. I am full of grief. I miss these characters but I believe they'd hurt me. I miss feeling safe yet I don't remember what feeling safe used to be like. And then I see this very pink, very cute very precious shop display-- and I stopped in my tracks because OH MY GOD THAT'S MY FAVORITE ARTIST????? OUT IN THE WILD?????

My jaw was hanging open as I looked at their display. I've messaged this artist a couple of times, and they're always so sweet, and one thing in particular was that this is the first person I've ever commissioned in my life. They drew gorgeous StarKeri for me a couple of years ago. It's my favorite art I've ever received, it's so dear to me, and this person's shop is my favorite TF shop and back when I used to buy TF merch, I would buy just about every Starscream item they had every time they'd restock. so I was like... ok I can't just stand here and stare at the adorable stickers. I gotta say hi. I gotta thank them for the StarKeri bc it's so special to me. So I pointed at them and I was like "hey are you [artist]??" and they said yes and I fumbled for my phone, pulled up the StarKeri photo, I was like "YOU DREW THIS FOR ME, THANK YOU THIS IS MY FAVORITE THING" and they were like "KERI?!?!" and I was like holy shit they remember my name 😳😳 and they were like "can I give you a hug?!" I SAID OMFG YES PLEASE ILUSM 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 and then we hugged and literally all of my anxiety/fear was completely thrown out the window. I felt so safe and comfortable and happy!!!! genuinely overjoyed!!!! and they were like "I'm so happy for you and Ken!!!!!!" it made my whole day sdlfkjsdlf and we chatted a little more and I kept thinking omg I can't believe this is happening. and I felt so good!!!! that whole time!!! (artist... u know who you are, if you're reading this, hi, i love u, im so happy to meet u, im going to message you when i get the free chance, you made my day ilusm. exploding into confetti as i type this)

and I was just SHAKING I was so excited to meet them. they're just as cute and sweet and precious IRL as their art is 😭😭💞💓💗💖💕💓💕 and I bought two items because I thought... it's okay... these items, these characters are Safe... because it's Theirs. I didn't wanna hold up the line so we said bye and I looked at my dad and I was like "that's my favorite artist, did you know that??? that's literally my favorite artist and they're HERE????? and we HUGGED????"

and then I realized that was the first time I smiled all day. and I felt SO GOOD, riding on that high, that excitement, and I thought -- why don't I keep looking around?? and suddenly, I wasn't flinching as much anymore. I didn't feel sick anymore. I felt... SOMEWHAT NORMAL looking at these peoples' fanart, these shops. These characters. I looked at Optimus Prime and thought, hey there's Optimus. I miss him. I saw Starscream and I said hey there's my beautiful Starlight, I miss him... and y'know what, he probably misses me too. I'd feel really sad looking at these characters sometimes but I didn't feel afraid, the fact that I could look at ANY OF THEM *AT ALL* and feel SORT OF OKAY is absolutely phenomenal. This is the first time in 14 months that I was able to look at these characters and not feel too much anxiety for a solid 30 minutes. INSANE. THAT'S INSANE FOR ME. THAT'S HUGE.

My dad said that as an early Christmas gift, he'd give me a budget of $200 and I could buy whatever merch I wanted. and I said "well that's not necessary but thanks anyways. I'm not buying anything. I'm not ready for that yet" but I kept passing by more and more shops, and I'd think "damn I would have loved that Heatwave keychain." and then I thought ... why DON'T I get that Heatwave keychain??? and one day, WHEN I heal, I'll be able to look at it again, right?? and that's insane, that in that moment I was looking at my TF F/Os with the more positive mentality of "I AM coming back to you one day" instead of "god I miss you and I'll never be the same around you again". I think hopeful is the right word. I was feeling hopeful. Hopeful!!! for the very first time!!!!!

I think I was there for about 30 more minutes, I bought a TON of stuff Heatwave, Starscream, and Knockout stuff. Stickers, keychains, plushies. I got teary when I saw Blades merch because I miss him so bad. My heart would ache every time I'd see Starscream but I kept thinking, I'm working on this, I'm coming back, I'm not letting this end, I don't care how long it takes. This is not a temporary love and we will grow as we go bc I can't imagine my life without you and all that good stuff I commissioned Steve Blum to say lmao. And then I passed by my fave artist again to tell them goodbye and I exploded with joy again. god they're so sweet 😭😭😭💞💗💗💗💖💓💓💗💗💕💕💕💖💕 I could ramble about how nice they are all day

And I was smiling, in a genuinely good mood, when we exited the artist alley, and then we passed by David's table -- NOBODY THERE AGAIN??? -- and I thought, hell, why don't I ask David for a video shoutout?? I'm feeling good!!! I'm feeling dandy!!! So I walked up to the table and he was smiling SO big, munching on peanuts or something, and he said "Keri!! hi!!!" and I said "hiiii I know I already bought something from you but can I buy something again?" and he said "aww I think I can allow it. you seem like a really nice lovely girl. I'm so sorry if I scared you before, I know I look like an intimidating guy, but I promise I'm not as scary as my characters" and I was like NOOO 😭😭 NO MR. SOLOBOV, IT'S NOT YOU, IT'S ME. IT'S ALL ME BRO. I'M JUST AN ANXIOUS WRECK

I asked him if he does videos and he said yes and I said OKAY and he asked what I wanted and I said "um.... could you have Shockwave say something nice to me? I know he wouldn't. I know it's not like him to say nice things, but uh--" and he said "no, no problem, I can do that for you of course" so we did a video together and he had Shockwave say "Keri... Keri... you may be listening to this video on a bad day. But I want you to know... everything will be okay. Your life is going to be great, Keri. Keri... you are... logical :)" and I said "THANK YOU" and he said "YOU'RE WELCOME" with the biggest smile.

And then I bought one more plushie... a Bulkhead plushie. His little arms are sewn so they're spread out, reaching forward for a hug. I told myself, this is how I have to remember Bulkhead sees me. Bulkhead doesn't want to beat me into a pulp!!! He wants to hold me gently!!! I'm his special little star girl!!! I'm his shining star or whatever the hell he used to call me I actually forgot -- whatever, he loves me!!! He misses me!!!! And this is how I should see him, reaching out to hold me so gently!!! As every single other TF character, even the most horrible terrible villains are EXTRA SOFT and they miss me and they can't wait for me to come back home to them someday 🥺🥺🥺🥺

So we leave the building bc I had to get home in time to go to work. I was kinda of disappointed bc I started to flinch again almost immediately upon leaving. I couldn't look at my merch without feeling a little nauseous. And I was like... what the hell, wasn't I doing okay for at least 45 minutes, there? Why am I suddenly going back to square one? What happened? I told my therapist abt it the next day, and I was like "I'm so disappointed, I thought I was feeling better but now I'm back to feeling scared again? I thought this would fix me" and she was like "oh no that's not how this works. you are traumatized, it's not gonna be fixed overnight. your c-ptsd is *severe.* it's gonna take time. BUT YOU NEED TO BE PROUD OF YOURSELF BECAUSE THIS WAS HUGE. OKAY??? THIS WAS SUCH A MAJOR STEP FORWARD" and I was like "DAMN UR RIGHT. THIS WAS SO GOOD FOR ME!!!!"

I put all of my merch I purchased into the boxes in my closet, except the Bulkhead plushie, and a tiny little Starscream plush keychain i bought from my fave artist.

I've also put my Bulkhead plushie on the shelf above my computer. I feel so tense when I look at it but I'm trying to give him a hug once a day. This is so hard!!! It's so hard!!!! But I'm trying my best and I hope that if I keep working at this I'll be able to reclaim TF. I don't even dream of self shipping into that universe again, I literally just... want to feel less scared. I want to feel indifferent to the characters instead of flinching at them. And THEN from THAT point once I'm no longer scared of them, I'll be able to embrace them fully. Baby steps, baby steps -- or in this case, this was a HUGE step and!!! idk I'm so proud of myself. I DID IT. I DID THAT!!!!!!

anyway tysm to anyone who actually read this lol, you are a rock star 😎✨ and thank you so much to everyone who sent me overwhelming amounts of love and support!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

mission accomplished [ scaramouche x reader ]

fifteen | stay

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as things go downhill, you tried your best to salvage what's left and figure out a way to unfold the mysteries behind the culprits of the crimes. after sleepless nights and stressful thinking, you ended up sick instead. how will you continue your work now?

warnings: swearing, overthinking, mentions of blood and murder, lots of comfort, scara takes care of you, me overusing the only one bed trope idea on my series once again lmao

a/n: *drum roll* thank you SO much for 100 followers! i never thought i'd get this far and i'm glad everyone's enjoying this series. as a reward, this chapter is around 3.7k words!! let's hope ma has a happy ending hahaha... happy reading!

grammatical errors may occur so please let me know if i've made any mistakes!

as soon as the mug hit the floor and shattered into millions of pieces, scaramouche immediately jolted from his position on the couch. he swiftly turned his head to you, eyes widened and worry cradled his face.

“holy shit, are you okay?!” he asked worriedly, though his words fell on deaf ears as time seemed to stop for you.

he's dead?

is this real, or are you just hearing things?

scaramouche's phone was still in your hand, the call you were on with childe a second ago still there, meaning he's heard everything.

“what's that sound? y/n, what happened?” childe's voice popped up from the other line, but his words too had no answer from you.

the ravenette beside you took his phone from your hand. “i'll call you back.” he said flatly, and ended the call.

putting your hands on your head in disbelief, you dug your feet to the floor, not even minding that there were shattered glass everywhere, resulting in your feet starting to bleed from the sharp object.

james words from the other day played back in your mind.

this isn't over.

was this what he meant?

you think again. no, that's impossible. who in the world would kill themselves just to get back at someone?

wait.

the trial.

he just came back from the trial yesterday.

he was supposed to be sent to jail right after you were done.

the trial might be displayed on the news.

snapping your head up, your eyes instantly landed on the tv screen.

“the 34-year old drug trafficker was found dead this morning in a police van, with the driver missing.” the news reporter said, face stoic. “he was initially to be sent out to teyvat prison after the man was dealt with a dreadful trial. it has been going on for a year now, and the trial was officially finished the other day, with the man, james, being guilty.” she continued.

fuck. your name might be exposed. your real name. with your face. everyone's gonna know who you are.

and what's worse is that your cover's going to be blown.

how did it get this fucked up in just a day?

please don't say it.

you repeated those four words for an infinite amount of times in your head.

please, i can't afford to lose this case.

“the trial involved a detective from the only prestigious precint, the fatui precint, who was shot by the victim over a year ago.”

you shivered, biting your thumb nail anxiously.

“reporters have started showing up at the precint upon hearing the devastating news, wanting to hear what detective–”

the tv news got cut off.

you perked your head up in confusion. “huh?”

scaramouche was dumfounded too, mouth left agape.

you turned to him. “is this from the news or is it our tv?”

“...pretty sure it was the news.”

what?

who in teyvat had that much of power in snezhnaya to make the well-known national news get cut off?

your phone on the coffee table lit up, the soft melody of your ringtone started ringing through the living room.

ah, sure, if it isn't the one and only.

your worry for your cover about to be blown up dissipated, now only confusion plastered on your face. picking up your phone, you answered the call.

“captain.”

the usual busy noise of the precint was now replaced with a much more chaotic one. shouts, screams, and every single disorderly sound can be heard from the other line. “y/n, there's something–”

“you were the one who did that, right?” you cut her off.

the tsaritsa's voice changed to confusion. “huh? what do you mean?”

you huffed. “don't play dumb with me, i know you were the one who cut off the news right before my name got revealed.”

“...i seriously have no idea what you're talking about.” she said, panting from who knows whatever she's doing.

you raised a brow, though stopped when you remembered that she couldn't see you. “then why did you call me?”

the tsaritsa sighed. “i–” she stopped for a second, scattering for what you assumed were crime files. “the precint is a whole mess right now, people are trying to barge in here to get you in the spotlight for some reason. but now that i heard what you said, i assumed words got out that he's dead.” she said.

“i suggest you stay inside your dorm for the next few days, i'm afraid people will find out who you are sooner or later.”

“but...” you shriveled. “you don't know anything about what happened to the news?”

the tsaritsa sighed once again, sounds of footsteps emitted from your phone. “i have no time to watch the news today, dear. sure, i have enough of a connection with all of the higher ups in this nation, but i don't even have an ounce of idea on what you're speaking of.”

huh, who could possibly be responsible for that now?

“please, take care of your safety. refrain from going out for a while, you'd have to hold off the case for now.” she concluded.

you were silent a few seconds.

“i'm sorry, y/n. this was unexpected, and it's all we can do for the time being.”

you held your phone more tightly than before, knuckles turning white. “it's... it's okay, i understand.” you said, voice almost breaking.

“we'll try our best to not get you exposed and have your cover blown. i know this case is important for you, so everyone here will help you with whatever we can.”

letting out a breath, you replied. “i'll see what i can do, too. thank you for your help, captain. hope i'm not too much of trouble to you guys.”

“it's alright.” she muttered. “i'll have to leave now, this place is a complete mess. i'll call you back soon.” she ended the call the second she finished her sentence.

ah,

everything's surely fucked up now.

you slowly placed your phone on the coffee table and buried your face in your hands. scaramouche was awkwardly sitting beside you the whole time, not knowing what to say or do.

he looked down on the floor and saw your, now wounded feet, glass sticking onto them with blood slowly dripping. you probably had no idea your feet were in pain from the shattered glass, and even if you did, you were too busy to even think about it, the adrenaline running quick as you were too bundled up with emotions.

widening his eyes, he let out a bunch of curse words under his breath and quickly placed your legs on the small coffee table. he got on his feet and avoided the shattered glass as he took off and went to get the emergency aid.

you didn't pay much mind with what scaramouche's doing, so you spent the time he was out of your sight by thinking about your current situation.

how is he even dead?

who killed him?

was this what he meant the other day?

is this going to affect your career?

question after question pops up in your head, making you the more agitated.

archons.

what happens when your cover gets blown? everyone in campus is going to find out who you are, and you'd be sabotaging your own case. what happens when people have already found out who you are? are you going to be the talk of the campus? will viktor find out about your cover? will yun jin get disappointed that you lied to her face?

you realized you've been caught up in your own thoughts for too long when you've noticed that your mug that was shattered on the floor were now gone, all swept up by the short male beside you.

speaking of which, he was already starting to treat your injured feet. he looked up from the emergency aid placed on the couch, averting his eyes to you.

you were in shambles, your hair was all over the place, face confused and anxious.

he sighed, brushing over your knees to bring both of your legs to the couch with one arm, tending to your injuries in an instant. you were turned around on the couch to face him, eyes averting elsewhere.

none of you spoke for a moment as he helped you patch up. the antiseptic going through the wounds made you wince, cursing yourself for getting in such a state.

after a while, you decided to kill the silence by letting out an airy chuckle, though no amusement laced your voice. “what the hell am i gonna do now?”

scaramouche looked up from his position, finishing up from cleaning and patching up your injuries. “what do you mean?” he asked.

you glared at him. “are you fucking stupid? you exactly know what i'm talking about.” you spat, making him frown at your sudden bitterness.

you immediately stopped once you've realised what you said.

“i... i'm sorry. i didn't mean that.” you mumbled, eyes on your lap.

the ravenette sighed, putting the emergency aid aside and looked back at you. “i know.” he simply said.

the wound on the sole of your feet from the incident earlier were now all patched up and nicely done, thanks to the short male in front of you.

“come here.”

you perked your head up. “what?”

he rolled his eyes. “you heard me. i'm not repeating it again.”

“um... why?” you asked, suspicious of him.

“must i need a reason? come over here.” he demanded a second time, one hand hovering over your knee to make you scoot to him.

you raised a brow, but obliged anyway. moving closer to him, you faced him on the couch, seeing each other eye to eye now with your legs crossed and your knees touching his.

“what now?” you grumbled, arms folded.

without waiting a second, scaramouche pulled you into a hug.

in the past, it was always you who embraced him, never failing to pull him close and cling on him during the trial. but right here, right now, it was him who initiated it, making you shocked, and slightly flustered.

you left your mouth agape, not knowing what to do. scaramouche had his chin on your shoulder and his arms wrapped around you tightly, as if you'll vanish the moment he looses his grip on you.

“i–um...” you trailed off, unable to find the right words.

the male in front of you rubbed your back with one of his hands, trying to cheer you up. “we'll figure out a way.” he muttered, referring to the rising problem.

you silently sat there for a while before you finally got to your senses and hugged him back, face nuzzling into his neck, humming at his sentence.

he smells nice, you thought to yourself, as you take in the faint scent of his body wash still lingering around his figure. you nuzzled into his neck more, eyes closing at the comforting warmth of his body.

scaramouche sighed at the small affection, his thumb tracing small circles over your hips, pulling you closer than before. he paid no mind to the lack of space and gap between you both.

the current position you two were in was ridiculously uncomfortable, but the warmth and comfort scaramouche gave was what you really needed at the time being, so you ignored it— even if you'll end up with cramps later on.

neither of you bothered to move anyways.

and it is true. you two will find a way— you always do. if you both can solve thousands of problems in the 5 years you've worked together, then surely it won't be too hard to figure out a way to solve this particular one.

right?

it was midnight when you felt like absolute shit.

you've spent the last couple of days trying to find out the culprit that cut off the news, and the one who killed james, but you seriously couldn't pinpoint on who it is.

while you were held off from going to classes for the time being, scaramouche had to keep an eye on viktor two times more frequently now to make up for your absence. both viktor and yun jin have asked him about you, even going out of their way to try and personally call you.

the ravenette had to make up a lie saying that you were sick and needed some time alone.

the only difference now is that the lie is probably becoming true.

“oh for archons sake...” you groaned, the headache that's currently trying to kill you being the reason you can't get up from bed. you were bundled up with your blanket, body cold to the brim.

for some forsaken reason, you got sick.

you're not sure how, when, or where you got it, but for whatever reason it is, you really hope this won't stop you from continuing the work you've been piled up on, you think as you tried your best to get out of bed.

“shit!” you yelped, accidentally rolling off the bed instead with you wrapped around your blanket like a burrito.

the sound of you hitting the floor resonated the small room, and you silently cursed yourself once again for getting in this mess.

you've been staying up and pulling all nighters this past week, trying to rack you brain as much as you can. since you were out from classes, you thought that it'd be way quicker and easier to find the culprit, but it seemed that your conclusions were wrong.

it was no doubt that you had fallen sick from the amount of times you've stressed yourself over your work, exhaustion clearly shown on the growing eye bags on you.

the sound of footsteps from the halls were evident to your ears, and next thing you knew scaramouche was at your door, knocking a couple of times.

“i heard a noise, did anything happen?”

you just grumbled loudly as a response, hoping that he heard you. the door opening and the lights that came from the hall illuminated your room concluded that he probably did.

“...why the hell are you on the floor?”

“'m sick...” you mumbled, voice muffled from the blanket you're wrapped around. you hoped he could decipher your words.

“huh?” he walked over to you and pried off the blanket from your face, crouching down to the floor. “why do you you look dead?”

“i'm sick.” you said it again for the second time, voice hoarse from dehydration.

“what?!”

you rolled, facing the floor. “just get me some water and i'll be good as–”

“how the fuck did you even get sick?!” he cut you off, grabbing your arm and rolling you back to face him. he brought up a hand and placed it over your forehead, the scorching hot temperature seeping through your body. “shit. you're hot.”

you smirked mischievously despite your current condition. “i know i am.”

scaramouche slapped your shoulder, making you whine, saying that this is not the time to be making jokes.

you slowly sat up, and leaned against the lower part of your bed. “'m fine. just some painkillers will do and i can go back to my work.” you commented, looking at the ravenette.

“you're burning up yet you're still thinking about work, you're unbelievable.”

“you know me. can't live without work.” you muttered.

scaramouche stood up, offering his hand to you.

“come on.”

you looked up at him, his shadow towering over your figure. “where are we going?”

“to your bed. you need to rest.”

groaning, you flailed your arms in frustration. “don't wanna go. floor's nicer.” you whined.

he rolled his eyes at you. “whiny when drunk, whiny when sick, there's absolutely nothing that'll make me surprised about you.” he went closer to you, urging for you to take his hand. “hurry now, or else i'll carry you up myself.”

“you wouldn't dare.”

upon hearing your comment, he immediately crouched down and wrapped his hands around your waist, making your breath hitch, and heart pounding.

“try me.” said the ravenette with his voice suddenly an octave lower, the warmth of his breath fanning over your ear, and his face just inches away from yours.

you're flustered, he thinks, given how you're so quiet with your eyes as wide as saucers and mouth left slightly opened.

he smirked to himself before lifting you off the floor and throwing you on the bed, making your previous flustered self vanish, replacing with a small yelp instead as you landed on the bed face-first, a very annoyed expression plastered on your face soon after.

“that's not very gentleman-like of ya.” you said, voice muffled by the pillows you were buried in.

he ignores your complaint. “get some rest. i'll come back later.”

and off he went, leaving you and your sick self alone in the small room.

he came back roughly thirty minutes later.

you hadn't realised he came back, too busy fixing your eyes on the work in front of you, frantically writing about your theories with the energy you have left.

it was when he placed a tray at the end of your bed, and snatched the papers and pen from you was when you realised he was present.

“what the hell are you doing? i thought i told you to rest up.” he coldly looked at you, though if you looked a little more closer then you'd see just a tinge of empathy in his eyes.

you grumbled. “give them back.”

“no.”

“please?”

“if you want to end up in the hospital, then be my guest.”

you didn't say anything else.

he took the tray at the end of your bed and placed it on your nightstand. looking at the stuff on the tray, you've realised that scaramouche had served you a bowl of chicken soup, with a glass of water and some medicine.

you averted your gaze to him. “you made this yourself?” you asked, pointing out to the soup he's made for you.

he hummed, taking a sit near you. reaching for the bowl, he offered it to you.

“don't really feel like eating.”

he groaned at you. even when you're sick, you can still be the bitchiest, he thinks.

“the food's gonna get cold if you don't eat.”

“then so be it.”

he sighed, bringing up a hand to rake his hair back in frustration, before an idea popped in his mind.

he took the spoon from the bowl, taking some of the chicken soup and blowing over the hot broth. he scooted closer to you and brought the spoon to your mouth, his other hand went under your chin to avoid spilling over the soup.

you raised a brow, asking him what he's doing. he only shrugged, and brought the spoon closer to your mouth, your lips touching the utensil filled with chicken soup.

after what felt like forever, you finally caved in and opened your mouth, allowing scaramouche to feed you. you sighed in contentment, the warm and delicious broth hitting down your throat.

it went on for a couple of minutes, with him blowing off the steam to feed you, and you sitting quietly on your bed with your back against your bed frame, he fed you until the bowl was empty.

you reluctantly took the medication from his hand after he nagged you about the consequences to your actions, and by the time everything was settled, you were getting tired.

yawning, you finally felt like going to sleep after countless of sleepless nights.

scaramouche helped you get ready to bed, tucking you in with your cozy blanket wrapped around you once again. you mumbled out a thanks to him for taking care of you, making him smile halfway, saying that it was nothing.

he cleaned up after everything and just as he was about to leave, you grabbed his wrist.

“hm? do you need anything else?” he asked the last question of the night, turning back to you.

you were pouting.

it was kind of adorable, scaramouche thinks. you barely do such an expression, and seeing you do it now made his ears go slightly red. you're being cute without even trying, with you being sick no less.

it was almost comical how it made his heart skip a beat.

“don't go.” you mumbled lowly, only for his ears to hear.

he placed the tray back on your nightstand. “you need to rest up, y/n. we can see each other in the morning, i'm not going anywhere.”

“no.” you fought. “stay with me.”

widening his eyes, he stared at you in shock.

your grip on his wrist tightened. “please.”

it wasn't a question. you were pleading. you were actually begging him to stay with you, despite the very big hole in your relationship.

he always knew you'd be clingy and whiny whenever you're sick, but he didn't expect for you to be so bold and impetrate for such a shameless request.

“...fine.” he sighed, obliging. “i'm only doing this just so you can rest.” he said, taking a seat at the edge of your bed from where he previously sat. “i'll leave once you're asleep.” he caressed the hand that was holding his wrist, leaving fluttering traces along your skin.

you pouted again. “noo..” you whined. “sleep with me. in bed.” you corrected, making him widened his eyes even more than before.

“that's such a ludicrous request. i'm not getting in bed with you.”

you grumbled, tugging his hand harshly to make him come closer to you. “c'monnn... don't wanna be here alone.” you pressed, giving him your signature puppy eyes whenever you needed something so badly.

damn it, he silently said.

you're absolutely ridiculous for asking such a thing.

and he's absolutely ridiculous for indulging in your pleas.

sighing for the hundredth time that night, he loosened your grip on his hand and climbed over to the empty side of your bed.

he placed a pillow in the middle to use it as a makeshift barrier and plopped back on your small bed. “i'm not holding you. sleeping on the same bed is already preposterous enough.”

“'s okay.” you assured. “'least you're here with me.”

he only hummed as a response, not wanting to say more.

it wasn't long before you two were finally pulled back to sleep, with pillow barriers blocking the only small gap between the both of you.

how you two ended all tangled up and arms wrapped around each other the next morning (and the makeshift barrier pillows thrown elsewhere on the floor) was something even the archons couldn't answer.

and then the next day scaramouche catches a cold /j

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Hi! So I feel selfish since I've already requested a fic from you, but since you posted that new prompt list, could you please do #10 from The Comforter list? I don't care who says it as long as they are saying it to Julian! ❤️

anon I love youuuu <333 never be shy about asking me for fics I will happily take 695876934 requests from you

so 10 from the comforter list is... "You're only going to make it worse by not resting." and I love that and I love it applied to Julian

I decided to spread the Miles/Keiko/Julian agenda with this one- hope that's alright! this is set sometime nebulously before Keiko's pregnancy with Kirayoshi, so sometime in s3 maybe?

anyways! please enjoy <3

It was only a matter of time before something like this happened.

The station's been dealing with an outbreak of Bajoran Red Fever. It's a nasty sickness, not fatal in most cases, but it can be pretty dangerous for younger children. It's also a pain in the ass to try to kick; the main symptoms being sky-high fever, dizziness and severe weakness, nausea, and some nasty joint pain. Luckily for the non-Bajoran occupants of DS9, it's a disease that really only affects Bajorans. There have only been a handful of non-Bajorans who have ever caught the diseases.

Unluckily, Julian is one of those non-Bajorans.

"How'd he even get it?" Miles asks, still trying to wrap his head around this whole thing, "I thought non-Bajoran cases were something like one in a million- that's what he was always saying, at least."

Nurse Jabara, wearing a face mask over her mouth and nose, gives a tired shrug as she rubs her temple. "The odds were slim, but not impossible. If I had to guess, I'd say the constant, repeated exposure on top of not nearly enough rest probably did it," She pinches the bridge of her nose, grimacing like she has a headache, "Whatever the case, he has it."

Keiko looks up from where she's checking the medkit Jabara gave her. "You said he fainted, right?" She asks. Jabara nods, so she follows up, "Did he hurt himself? Do we have to worry about, I don't know, a concussion? Anything like that?"

"No," Jabara confirms, and Keiko breathes a sigh of relief, "Lucky for him, Nurse T'Strei has great reflexes, and caught him before he fell. Speaking of which, she's probably not having a great time trying to keep him in bed," She gives Miles a look that is so, so very tired, "We've had patients coming in all morning. You can imagine how he's taking being laid up."

"Say no more," Miles doesn't need to imagine- he knows Julian will be about beside himself, "We'll take him off your hands. You said those shots you gave us will protect us from the fever?" He checks.

"You're as close to immune as you can be," Jabara nods, "There's one in there for Molly, too, just in case you can't keep her away from him. Believe me, asking your family to do this wasn't my first choice, but we aren't exactly blessed with options," She sighs, "Everybody who is resistant to the fever is busy working overtime to make up for everybody who's down with it, and I can't put him with anybody who's susceptible to infection. Commander Dax tried to insist, but joined Trill can contract the fever, and it could be deadly to her and the symbiont, and-"

"Jabara," Keiko steps in, places a gentle hand on the nurse's arm to stop her rambling, "It's ok. We'll take care of him." She reassures her.

Jabara pauses. Takes a deep breath. "Thank you," She breathes, "It's been... certainly one of the longer mornings of my career. Let me take you to him before T'Strei decides to sedate him." She says.

"If she hasn't already." Miles cracks, which earns him a nudge in the ribs from Keiko.

They follow after Jabara as she leads them further into the infirmary. It's pretty busy, mostly full of Bajorans, and all of them are masked up. The only people not masked up are non-Bajorans, though Miles notices that a few of the human staff are wearing masks. Probably since their human Chief Medical Officer went and got himself infected.

Speaking of the devil, it doesn't take long to find him. They just have to follow the sound of the arguing.

"This is hardly necessary."

"You are not presently fit to deem what is necessary."

Jabara stops, and gestures for them to go ahead into a separate area. Miles and Keiko both nod to her, and continue on.

Miles has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing at the scene they walk into. Because, sure, he's worried about Julian. Of course he is. But it's also very funny to see Julian lying on a biobed, with T'Strei sitting beside him and effortlessly keeping him pinned down to said bed with one hand on his chest.

"I have patients," Julian is insisting, even though he looks half-dead himself, "I have to finish my morning rounds, and then I need to-"

"If you can push me off," T'Strei cuts in, sounding like she's said this a million times over, "Then you can go."

"That is so not fair." Julian pouts.

Miles decides now is the moment to clear his throat and announce his presence. Both Julian and T'Strei look over at him, though he directs his attention to Julian. "Julian," He says, crossing his arms over his chest, "Are you disobeying doctor's orders?"

"Yes." T'Strei replies flatly.

"I'm the doctor," Julian huffs, indignant, "I give the orders."

"Which you are not following," T'Strei points out. She looks at Miles, "I assume you both are here to collect him?" She asks.

Keiko steps closer. "We are," She confirms. She's got a much more gentle touch than T'Strei and Miles do, bless her, as she goes and puts a gentle hand on Julian's cheek, "Nurse Jabara called us. How are you feeling?" She asks.

It's like a magic trick- Miles watches as all the defiance drains right out of Julian's expression, melted away by the simple touch of Keiko's hand. With all his defiance goes all his energy, and all the colour in his face. God, he looks awful- pale under his skin, and his eyes too-bright with fever.

"I'm alright," Julian tells Keiko, in a raspy voice that's anything but alright, "Honestly, Keiko, you didn't need to come."

Miles and T'Strei exchange a can you believe this bullshit look.

"Liar," Keiko accuses gently. She brings her hand up to his forehead, presses the backs of her knuckles against his pale skin, "You're burning up, Julian. You're not well. You need rest." She insists.

"Which is exactly what you're gonna get," Miles puts in, stepping over to join Keiko at Julian's bedside, "You're comin' home with us. That way, we can keep an eye on you. Make sure you actually get some rest, which we all know you're not gonna be gettin' in here." He explains.

"Oh, I- I couldn't ask you to do that," Julian says, looking as pathetic as a puppy in the rain, "I could get you sick, and what about Molly? I couldn't-"

"We got our shots done," Miles interrupts, "And we have one for Molly, too. So, no arguing," He looks up at T'Strei, "We can take him from here, Lieutenant. We'll get him outta your hair."

"Human expression." Julian says quietly, as T'Strei frowns at the statement. Then she nods, and takes her hand away, stepping back to let Miles and Keiko each grab an arm and gently ease Julian up into a sitting position.

"Thank you, Chief," T'Strei bids, "Mrs. O'Brien," She nods to Keiko, "If he gives you any trouble, do not hesitate to call. I can be available for assistance very quickly." She gives Julian a pointed look as she says that last part.

"I'm sure we can handle him," Keiko says as they get Julian off the biobed and onto wobbly legs. Miles is inclined to agree with her, considering Julian's already leaning heavily into his shoulder, the act of standing up apparently a significant drain on his energy, "C'mon, Julian, let's get you home. I've got everything you need right here." She shows him the medkit.

"Computer," Miles summons, seeing no point in dragging Julian through the long walk, "Three to transport to Chief O'Brien's quarters. Energize."

Miles wraps his arm tight around Julian's waist to hold him upright through the transport. One second they're in the infirmary, the next they're in the living room. Julian sways slightly, wobbling, and Keiko puts a hand on his chest to help steady him.

"Easy does it, Julian," She murmurs, starting to guide him towards the couch, "You poor thing, what made you think you could work like this? You're barely standing." She admonishes, her voice laced with concern.

Julian doesn't answer until they get him sitting down. He doesn't so much lean back as he does fall back against the cushions, his eyes glassy and unfocused. "I had patients," He mumbles, blinking a few times- dizzy, probably, "I couldn't just leave them."

Miles takes a seat beside him. Keiko does the same thing on his other side. "You've got a perfectly competent medical staff who are more than capable of runnin' the ship while you're away," He points out, "How long have you been sick? Honestly. Cause somehow I doubt this started today." He hasn't actually seen Julian in days. Their usual holosuite date got cancelled due to the outbreak, so he hasn't been able to keep an eye on him.

Julian frowns, squinting as he thinks. "I don't know," He replies, and he sounds like he means it, "Maybe a couple days ago. It's... hard to keep track." He admits.

Keiko gently rubs her hand up and down his arm. "Julian," She says, in that soft voice of hers that could melt ice, "When was the last time you slept?" She asks.

There's the million dollar question. That's always the first thing Julian starts to go without- sleep. Like he thinks he's superhuman, and can just keep on going without it. Miles has known him to go days at a time without a wink of shuteye. He wouldn't be surprised if this is one of those times.

Julian looks at Keiko. "I don't know," He tells her, his voice very quiet, "I... I honestly don't know."

Even Miles can't keep up his usual attitude when Julian's like this. He sounds so goddamn tired and he looks even worse, with those big doe eyes of his all sad and pathetic.

"It's alright, Julian," He finds himself saying, a whole lot softer than he usually is, "Molly's got a big party all day, she won't be back till tomorrow. So you'll have plenty of time to catch up on your sleep here." He gives his hand a reassuring pat.

"You're only going to make it worse by not resting," Keiko adds, bringing her hand up to his cheek, "I know resting doesn't come easy to you, but promise me you'll at least try, ok?" She rubs her thumb affectionately over his cheekbone, "Promise me you'll let us take care of you?" She implores him.

Miles knows this game of Keiko's well. Nobody is immune to it. He's over here melting, and he's not even her target. Sure enough, Julian is cracking a smile. A small one, weak and watery, but a smile nonetheless.

"That's cheating," He accuses, his voice gone soft, "You know I can't say no when you do that."

Keiko gives him a smile of her own, a smile that could rival a sunrise. "That's exactly why I do it." She teases. Then she leans in, and gives him a gentle kiss on the cheek.

If Julian's face wasn't already flushed with fever, he's certainly blushing now, his cheeks going deep cherry red. "Miles." He says.

"Yeah?" Miles asks.

"I'm running away with your wife." Julian informs him, which makes Keiko snort and laugh.

"Not without me, you're not," Miles chuckles, giving Julian a playful nudge, careful to keep it light so he doesn't accidentally knock him over, "You can try that once you're all better. Until then, I'm not lettin' you outta my sight till you're better, ya hear?"

Julian looks over at him, still blushing, still smiling. "Loud and clear," He hums, "Do you have a kiss to go with that statement, or do I have to ask Keiko for another?"

Miles rolls his eyes. Keiko giggles. "At least you can still be obnoxious," He huffs. Even so, he does lean in and give Julian a quick peck on the temple, "There. Only cause you're sick." He tells him.

Julian's smile broadens into something resembling a grin. "You love me." He teases.

"Yes," Keiko leans in, gives Julian another kiss, this one landing high on his cheekbone, "We love you. And because we love you, we're going to take care of you," She gives Julian's shoulder a pat, "So you just lay back, and let us do the worrying for once, alright?"

Julian looks between them. And it's a subtle shift, but that mischievous grin softens, and turns into something much more affectionate and sincere. "I love you, too." He says to both of them, all sap and sweetness.

"Yeah, you're alright." Miles says, which gets him a laugh from Julian and an indignant swat from Keiko. What can he say, he's never been the best with all this sappy stuff.

Besides, they both know how he feels. He doesn't have to say it. He's never had to say it. They just know.

Good | OUAT fanfic | CS gift exchange gift (2/3)

MERRY CHRISTMAS @i-will-sing-no-requiem !!!

Here is your second gift! A little fic I started for you that I didn't end up going with, but it turned into like a little missing scene :)

Summary: (missing scene/tag to "New York City Serenade") A conversation between Emma and Killian about her broken heart. And maybe the hope that it will mend, sooner rather than later. 

AO3

It was the night they'd come back to Storybrooke from New York City, and he found her in Granny's dining room, nursing a drink long after the employees had gone home. He himself had come to look for a drink for himself to erase the desire to be near her.

Yet, he didn't think anything was strong enough to keep him away.

"Emma?" he asked, brows lifting in surprise. "I thought you'd be with your family," he said, ignoring the pang in his chest, the wish to be included in it.

"Henry doesn't have his memories," said Emma dully, turning the glass in her fingers, staring into it. "We're staying here until he gets them back. He's asleep."

The dining room was empty, and it felt like he'd rather die than leave her alone in it. "Care for some company?" he asked gently.

She seemed to hear the gentleness of the question, and also seemed to ponder it before saying, "Sure."

Killian sat beside her, trying to ignore what felt like electricity being so close to her. He watched her for a moment, but she didn't say anything. Until:

"Oh for two, I guess."

Her words were weighted by something tired and sad, and Killian turned his head, seeing with shock that her eyes were slightly red, like she'd been crying.

But before he could inquire, she clarified, "First Neal, then Walsh. The two biggest liars I've ever known, and my superpower didn't catch a damn one."

The boyfriend that turned into a flying monstrosity.

For the first time, Killian pushed aside the envy at the idea of Emma with another man while he'd been madly in love with her for the entire past year.

Because this was Emma, someone who trusted people less than he did, especially when it came to love, and she'd been played.

Twice.

Bloody hell.

How could he have been so selfish?

"Catching liars is the only thing I'm good at," whispered Emma, like either she'd hit a breaking point or the alcohol was loosening her walls a little. She shut her eyes, rubbing them. "God, I'm so stupid."

"You are the furthest thing, Emma," said Killian seriously, wanting badly to touch her, console her somehow, but he kept himself from doing so. "I've said it before and meant it every time, love. You're bloody brilliant."

"No," she said, dismissing the compliment without a second thought, like she didn't even have the ability to process words of praise.

Something that hurt him to his very core.

"No," she repeated, glaring a little into the drink left in her glass. "Stupid that I even thought someone could—anybody would want—"

She didn't finish the sentence, but Killian heard the end of it in painful clarity.

Me.

"Emma." said Killian, voice almost edging on desperate, because the thought of her believing something so untrue made him feel sick. This time, he couldn't help himself, settling his hand tentatively over hers on the counter, making her eyes snap to it, like she was just as distrustful of a kind gesture. Unable to believe it could simply be for comfort and comfort alone.

"You are not stupid for believing that someone had wanted you this past year, because someone has." And trying to breathe past the sudden fear in his own chest, he managed— "I have."

She looked at him for the first time tonight, like that wasn't something she'd even considered.

"Emma," he said, slowly, because he needed her to hear his words. "I was… I was a bloody mess this past year. Thinking I'd never see you again…" He swallowed past the dark, lonely nights thinking just that. "When I got the message to save you…" He smiled at the relief at reading it. "I did everything I could to find you. If only… to see you again."

Finally, it seemed like she was hearing his words, and for the first time since taking the memory potion, she seemed to realize just what lengths he'd gone.

For her.

There was something in her eyes, something that erased the sadness that was there.

Something like hope.

She smiled a little, something that was like the shadow of her normal one, though he's only rarely seen even that. "Thanks," she said softly. "I think I forgot that part." And with a little shyness, "It's been… nice to see you again too."

'Nice' didn't quite seem to define the look in her eyes, but he let her have her secrets.

A… feeling filled the air between them, and they both seemed to feel it at the same time, the lingering… chemistry.

Emma stood, fairly quick, saying, "I guess I should, um, get to sleep."

As much as Killian wanted to stay here with her, he understood.

Emma was afraid enough of love, and that was before her heart had been freshly broken.

He'll give her as much time as she needs.

"Aye," he agreed, both of them walking toward the rooms.

They stopped outside his door, and Emma paused before heading to hers, saying, "So... you're... staying? In Storybrooke?"

There was so much hope in those words that it seemed she was trying to actively prevent.

The question was attempted to be casual but was anything but.

Her heart was shattered, broken.

As much as it pained him to see, it was a hope of his own.

If it can be broken, that means it still works.

For he knew that, all too well.

"Aye," he said, just as heavily, just as hopeful. "I am."

Emma's eyes lingered on his, those walls so cracked, that hope shining through, like sunlight through leaves.

And she smiled, the expression as beautiful as she was. "Good."

She disappeared with that whisper, slipping into her room, and Killian remained frozen where he was.

Good.

He smiled.

-.-.-

tag list: @csgiftexchange @kmomof4 @justanother-unluckysoul @klynn-stormz @stahlop @ilovemesomekillianjones @hookmecaptain @tiganasummertree @jadehowlettthewolf @jonesfandomfanatic @anmylica @pirateprincessofpizza @stahlop @snowbellewells @eddisfargo @motherkatereloyshipper 

bad boy good thing x.

pairing: jeon jungkook x oc

genre: angst, smut, fluff, miscommunication (we hate her lol), pining

warnings: smut, jungkook is really an asshole, the angst hurts a lot tbh, unhealthy relationships (?)

words: 8, 711

summary: a series of drabbles where you're confused and jungkook's confusing

a/n:

so here is the mini monster chap !! i know I said this was going to be a drabble series but I clearly got carried away LOL

anyways, no spoilers for this chap but I can say it's one of my favs that I've written and I think we see oc getting the comfort that she deserves (and needs!)

and also !! this is my first time updating a series on tumblr and it feels *exciting* hehe, I hope you enjoy this chapter c:

let me know your thoughts in my asks!! i'd love to hear what you think so far :3

all the love and I hope you're having a great

day/night/evening/afternoon wherever you are ❤️

“Open up!”

The only person that would opt to yell to get your attention than ring on your doorbell like a normal person would be Yena. And it helped that you immediately recognised her voice from the first syllable she uttered. That and you were currently moping in your living room with lactose-free ice cream, courtesy of Jimin that dropped it off a day ago when he heard that you were ‘sick’. Even if you hadn’t seen him face-to-face, you remember him softly hoping you’d get better.

You don’t know why she’s at your door, but you’re already on your feet to get her when you hear her begin to mutter curses directed at you behind the thin wood of your entrance.

“I can hear you!” You call.

“Well bitch then open the damn door!” She snaps.

You roll your eyes, and so far with the number of times you’ve hung out with her, it’s safe to say that the two of you were comfortable. You never knew how fun having a girl best friend was until you met Yena, and sure it’s only been a little under two weeks since you’ve gotten to know her through various messages and FaceTimes, but you feel like she’s your friend soulmate.

And when you expressed that to her over a FaceTime call a few nights back, you remember her gagging all while you flush and attempt to take it back. You know her candidly calling you bitch rather than your name was her saying she felt the same.

You pull the door open as she stands there with her eyes narrowed into slits, eyeing you up and down before she scrunches her nose.

“There’s a thing called a shower that you should look into. You look like a rundown version of long-haired Noah Beck.” She grimaces when she eyes you up and down.

You scowl. “You did not just compare me to him.”

She clicks her tongue before she shoves you aside by shoving a plastic bag of the takeout food into your arms and steps into your apartment.

Yena ignores the glare you shoot at the back of her neck when she looks around your living room, scrunching her nose like she was here to inspect your room than pay you a visit.

“Did someone die in here or was that just your will to live?”

You scoff. “Wow. Drag me.”

She waves you off before plopping onto your couch while you sigh, immediately heading to the kitchen to prep the food she brought over.

“For a moment I thought you were dead.” She confesses casually.

When you return with bowls and plates, with the cutlery to match—you give her a dry look before you’re taking your seat on the floor; attempting to hide your half-eaten tub of ice cream, which Yena immediately spots.

“So your first instinct was to yell at my door in hopes that I wasn’t actually dead?” You ask dryly.

She picks up your ice cream and grimaces at it, silently judging you for the flavour before she gives you a shrug.

“Yeah. I was hoping that your spirit would confer.”

You snort. “And the food?”

“A peace offering.” She tells you like it’s obvious.

You sigh, you loved Yena—you really did. She was all over the place and random, but it was a refreshing difference that you needed in your life from the usual law and order you often opted for.

“Not that I don’t appreciate your concern,” You tell her, pulling out a container to see your favourite lemon chicken as you eye her suspiciously. “But what brings you here? I told you I was sick.”

Yena scoffs. “And sick you are, bitch. What kind of sick person devours ice cream? Sure, you look the part but your diet says otherwise. Don’t think I didn’t see the empty packet of snickers in the trash.”

You scowl.

“I recovered yesterday.” You lie, taking a bite out of the chicken.

Yena rolls her eyes and you know she doesn’t believe you. She leans into your couch while she watches you eat, “Namjoon texted me that you may need some company.” At that, you choke.

Her eyes widen as you hit at your chest to get the food to go down, eyes still wide at her revelation.

“Why would he do that?” You cry.

“Girl, I know you’re not trying to deflect—you’re literally about to choke and die.”

You glare at her. “I’m fine.” You cough for good measure, then you’re levelling another serious gaze at her.

“I’m fine.” You reiterate with an emphasis on your state even though you were anything but. “I don’t know why the hell he thinks I need company.” You mutter under your breath.

At this, Yena’s face softens as she leans forward to rest her elbows on her knees while you avoid her gaze; idly poking at your food.

“I don’t know either, and you don’t need to tell me anything.” She says softly. “That’s all I’m here for. To be your company, whether you need it or not.”

You don’t know how much Namjoon told her over a text message, but you don’t think it’s much. Purely because he didn’t seem like a snitch and he was too respectful to ever let other people into the business that wasn’t his own. Even at the thought, you want to groan because you essentially lured him into thinking it was okay for him to kiss you while you were … you don’t even know what the fuck was happening anymore.

“I—” You say weakly, and all Yena does is offer you a comforting smile.

For some reason, the fact that she’s here right in front of you after you spent the day crying and feeling like your heart has been repeatedly stomped over with the addition of your rumination—it feels nice to have someone with you, even if it’s just their presence.

But the way she doesn’t look at you and expects something out of your conversation makes you feel even more overwhelmed, and that’s probably why the dam breaks.

Yena’s eyes widen as she immediately darts out to wrap her arms around you when you end up in violent sobs. You don’t know why you’re crying but you are, and you’re tired of hiding things, your feelings and your intent just to pretend like things were okay.

“It’s okay.” She strokes your hair and it feels warm, like a mother comforting a crying baby and you realise that this is what friends should feel like.

“N-no it’s n-not!” You cry into her shirt and it’s messy, but she doesn’t seem like she minds. Especially when she supports your pliable frame.

“You wanna talk about it?” She asks softly, giving you a kind smile.

You sniffle, staring forward as you feel your eyes swell with the escalation of your tears.

“I don’t know.” You whisper.

She hums, “It’s okay not to know. You don’t need to know everything.”

“I’m just so tired, Yena.” You tell her in a hushed breath.

“Life is difficult.” She admits. “It’s natural to be tired.”

You’re thankful to hear that she doesn’t comfort you with blind optimism. She’s real and she acknowledges how shitty things may be, and frankly, you didn’t need another wannabe altruist telling you that things will get better. You knew that, everyone did. But when you’re at rock bottom and all you see is darkness, you’re not looking for better. You’re looking for a reason to continue.

“Can I say something?” She asks. The way she looks at you is soft and open, and non-judgemental. You feel safe.

You nod your head, teary eyes staring up at her.

“You’re not responsible for anyone’s feelings except your own.” She looks at you so seriously that you nearly feel your breath escape. “There are things that you can and cannot control—and the latter usually falls under the people around you.”

You suck in a breath, and you wonder how she’s so spot on without ever touching on the true context.

“Namjoon texted me but I didn’t come here because he asked me to. It’s because you deserve to have someone be around you when you’re clearly not okay.”

“I’m—”

“You’re not.” She blinks, and you almost pout at her firm tone. “And that’s okay. I don’t need to know what happened to justify how you feel. You could’ve stubbed your toe and feel like absolute shit and I have absolutely no right to judge you on how or when you feel emotions.”

You wonder where she’s been your entire life and why she was only in your life now.

“But the thing is,” She sighs. “You don’t always have to choose between something or the other. Sometimes you need to choose yourself.”

You stare up at her in awe because Yena was cool in general, her laidback and unbending personality was mainly what drew you to her because you’d argue you were the opposite. Even if Jungkook’s words stung, you could take it at face value and accept that it was true.

You were uptight and you were a bit of a prude, and for the longest time, you always resented that aspect of you. But you realised with Yena, she had traits that were resented in a woman as well. And you realise that you’d never be perceived the way you want unless you perceive yourself in a positive light first.

So when she speaks to you so sternly, yet with a tone of care as she picks apart her words so carefully—you realise what you have to do.

“I think I like Jungkook.”

Yena pauses for a brief second, but you don’t see any judgement in her face. Just confusion, a warranted emotion you don’t blame her for having.

“I figured as much.”

Your eyes widened, “How—?”

It’s almost like a repeat of the first night at the football game when you befriended each other, but she only shoots you a gentle smile.

“Call it a woman’s intuition.”

You blink, fiddling with your fingers before you stare up at her, continuing your drawls.

“And we kissed.”

At this, Yena cocks an eyebrow up, “Was this recent?”

You fiddle with your thumbs before you sigh and push yourself up.

“Thing is …” You mumble, “I’m not like that.”

You don’t answer her question because you can’t think of a proper enough response to tell her that yeah—you did kiss him, amongst other things that you foolishly allowed yourself to indulge in. You knew Yena wasn’t judgemental but you also knew that you couldn’t retrieve your words the moment they left your mouth. It was your own judgement that stopped you from saying the things you really wanted and it sucked, royally. Because you could tell that Yena wasn’t out here to crucify you for being … liberated. She just wanted to be there for you.

Yena scrunches her eyebrows in confusion as she allows your words to settle, pondering a response.

She settles for a huff, “Care to elaborate?”

“I don’t … do things like that.” You say softly. “I’m shy and quiet. I’m not active in the social sphere and I only have three friends that I can reach out to if I wanna hang out. But even then, I don’t … I don’t like partying, or drinking, or loud spaces. I’m awkward and horrible at social interaction let alone being able to navigate my romantic feelings. And … I felt so bad about it.”

Yena’s eyes soften, but you can’t look at her just yet. Not when this is the first time you’ve ever laid yourself vulnerable, emotionally that is, to someone that wasn’t just the confines of your thoughts.

“I always wondered what it’d like to be confident, to be liked on campus and not just be known as the smart girl.” You whisper. “My entire personality was built around my achievements and I didn’t know what else to do. What if … what if I peak here and fail after?” Your eyes are wide in despair, and you feel your lips quiver when you speak.

“You’ll never know.” Yena reminds you gently. “You won’t know who likes you or what people say about you—but you’re going to be hearing your own thoughts 24/7 and that’s what kicks you down or drives you further.”

You sigh, nodding your head.

“It’s just … Jungkook and I were close. We grew up together even if he’s younger than me. But we just got along well and he … he saw me. He used to comfort me whenever I’d tell him how pressuring it got and—I feel so stupid because he probably says that to everyone and I fell for it.” You chuckle with no emotion, staring at the stray thread poking outside of your couch pillow.

“Have you spoken to him about your feelings?” She asks softly.

Immediately, you scoff and the sour emotion peaks through again.

“He’s made it clear what he wants to hear from me.” You mutter.

Yena purses her lips before resting her hands gently on your shoulder.

“You’re not answering my question, ______.” She chides gently.

You nibble on your bottom lip and shake your head. That earns a sigh from her as she wraps her arms around you once again, resting her chin on your shoulder as you allow yourself to feel the comfort of her warmth.

“He kissed me first and we did things together.” Your lips quiver when you recall the memories, “A-And he’s with Jennie. I just …” You flutter your eyes shut, “I don’t want to say that I’m the other girl but I feel a lot like a second option and it sucks.”

Yena doesn’t ask, and she doesn’t need to. She doesn’t need to justify why you felt the way you did, so she holds you tighter.

“Babe.” She gently turns you to look at her with both hands resting on your shoulders. “Did you talk to him? Properly? Do you really know if he’s with her?”

“I think them kissing proves enough to me.” You snap, and you don’t know why you’re being so hostile, especially to Yena.

She purses her lips, “You kissed him and you aren’t together.”

You wince and she shoots you an apologetic look. She sighs before reaching out to squeeze your hand, all while you stare at the ground to level out your emotions.

“I’m not saying that you can’t feel the way you do. But I’m offering objectivity here. Men are … they’re blunt creatures and that’s the biggest difference between men and women.” You furrow your eyebrows as she takes a deep breath before she continues. “And the idea that we’re equal? No, we’re not. I’m not talking about our systemic positions in society but on an emotional level. Men take things surface value and work with it, they don’t stop to think about the layers of feelings that go into interpersonal relationships with friends, family or lovers. Women? We go big or we go home. All we see is the big picture and sometimes the little details get lost in translation. This isn’t me justifying Jungkook playing home with you or Jennie at the same time, but offering you a perspective that may be hard for you to see because you aren’t him.”

It was true, and you hated yourself for being aware but not putting action based on your own thoughts. Yena only reaffirmed the idea that you overthought every single interaction and maybe that was why you were the one that was hurting.

That, or you and Jungkook had horrible communication problems that neither of you was ready to face just yet. But how could you? When the two of you were on two different wavelengths and you were trying to be just enough for him while he was jumping off pedestals to see you.

It didn’t feel nice, and it sucked because he was the same person that comforted you and broke you all at once.

“I’m scared.” You whisper.

She smiles at you gently, patting your head gently as you peer up at her with tears between your lashes.

“And that’s okay.” She reassures you with a soft voice, “The only thing scarier than being scared is not feeling at all.”

Before you go to where your heart tells you to—your mind is the only thing that keeps you rooted in some form of rationale. That’s probably why you’re outside of Namjoon’s dorm. You don’t think you’ve ever paid his place a visit despite him telling you his address on multiple occasions, usually opting to hang out in public yet serene places where you were able to get a breather.

Your feet feel heavy and your fist is raised, but it barely moves. Especially when you’re just eyeing his door like a deer caught in headlights. You’ve rehearsed the apology on your tongue a million times, even if you don’t really know what you’re apologising for. But you feel like you must, particularly because you’ve senselessly let him see all of the feelings that you were trying to suppress in hopes of retaining the same ones he had for you.

You take a deep breath and deliver the first knock, the vibrations making your arm feel weak.

But you’re tired of always surrendering to bigger and more frightening things that you could understand. So you purse your lips and play the waiting game.

It seems like a long twenty minutes that you wait, but in reality, it’s only two when the door swings open. You brace yourself to see Namjoon, apology already sitting on your tongue.

You should’ve dropped a text, you knew that. But you decided against it because you haven’t spoken to Namjoon since what happened a few days ago. Neither of you speaking about the kiss or the way your eyes glistened when you saw Jungkook and Jennie together.

“____?” He asks confusedly.

You give him a meek smile, “Hi. Can I come in?”

He blinks at you, and you notice he still has his glasses that he usually forgoes during the times you’ve hung out—and you feel a little guilty for catching him at a bad time.

“Yeah.” He clears his throat. “Sure.”

Namjoon steps aside and you’re welcomed into the space of his living room. The first thing you notice is the interior, and how … Namjoon it was. It’s both cluttered and neat, the palette of his furniture matching the overall vibe he emanated. His furniture is mostly wood, light sandalwood that makes it feel all the homier.

And you tell him such, “You have a very homey place.”

Namjoon turns his head to look at you right before he plops himself back onto his couch where you see the bits and pieces of paper scrambled across the floor and the couch. Even then, he was able to look so welcoming even though you reckon he has a right to be hostile—for a reason you came here to apologise for.

“Thank you.” He flushes, patting a spot in front of him for you to take your seat.

When you settle, the atmosphere turns strained when you mull over your words so that you wouldn’t stumble over them. You practised, you did—about a hundred times before you came here and you thought you were ready to apologise and put things behind you but it’s proven difficult when all he does is look at you in earnest.

“Not that I—uh—mind,” He mumbles, “But is there a reason why you’re here?”

You blink at him as you ignore the quiver in your heart.

“I’m sorry.” You blurt.

“_____ why are you—”

“You didn’t deserve what happened the other day.” You interject, voice soft but unwavering when you force yourself to look at him as his eyes widen.

“I wasn’t the one that saw something I shouldn’t have.” He reminds you with a frown.

You swallow, “I kissed you. And you …” It wasn’t helping that he was looking at you so gently as he awaits your continuation. “You didn’t need to save me back then, Namjoon.” You end in a whisper.

Namjoon reaches out to grab your shoulder, touch gentle as he searches for your eyes.

“I didn’t save you …” He tells you tenderly.

“It’s not just that!” You exasperate while you throw your hands up in the air. “I-it’s everything … from the way you treat me and the way you look at me. You didn’t need to do any of that and you even—” You trail off, fluttering your eyes shut. “—what did you say to Jungkook right before we left?”

Namjoon’s eyes enlarge as his grip becomes tense against your shoulder. You can almost see the way his mind kicks into gear as he thinks of a response.

“That—I—does it matter?” He huffs.

Your eyes soften, “Namjoon.” You force yourself to look at him even if now he was the one that tries to avoid your gaze. “What did you say?”

Namjoon tightens his lips before he sighs deeply, head dropping forward before he looks at you.

“I told him to be honest.” He says softly.

You furrow your eyebrows, “To be honest …?”

“I know you have feelings for him.”

Your face blanches when Namjoon basically exposes you. It’s one thing for you to be self-aware of your complicated feelings towards the other boy. But when someone else points it out, especially when it’s Namjoon—the boy who’s been nothing but kind and patient with you while you’re too busy being caught up in your emotions—it’s like a slap across your face.

“I-I don’t—”

“You don’t need to lie to save my face, ______.” He chuckles dryly, eyes darting away as he tries to neutralise his expression. You wince at the spite he establishes, but you know deep down that Namjoon isn’t angry at you. No, he was far too understanding to be. Disappointed? Frustrated? Sure, but never angry,

The silence answers for you when you look away this time, eyebrows scrunched as you attempt to navigate the conversation. You came here to apologise, and to be honest.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper.

“Don’t.” He takes a deep breath as you flinch. “Don’t … apologise.” He sighs.

“I didn’t mean to lead you on, Namjoon.” You murmur apologetically.

He shoots you a half-hearted chuckle, “You didn’t do anything. Really.”

“But I did, Namjoon. I kissed you back.” You frown.

“That doesn’t imply anything. I kissed you, and you reciprocated. We all kiss someone and not mean anything by it.”

You flinch, and you’re familiar with that more than anyone else. The reminder only stings because it makes you realise that you were not much different from Jungkook, the same person you’ve claimed to have messed with you and fucked you over.

“I’m—”

“Please don’t apologise anymore.” He says. “I already feel like shit.”

You smile sadly at him, “How do you manage to be so nice even when other’s do you wrong?”

Namjoon sighs, then he grabs both your hands in his. “You didn’t wrong me, _____. It’s not your fault you don’t feel the same way I do.”

“How did you …” You trail off.

“How did I know you had feelings for Jungkook?” He chuckles. “The same way he knew I had feelings for you.”

You purse your lips, eyes dropping to your lap. “It’s not that simple, Namjoon …” You say softly.

Namjoon smiles at you gently, “Is it?” He gently nudges your knee with his so that you’d look at him. “Life is simple. It’s not easy. But it’s simple.”

You scoff even if a small smile teases your lips, “You really are a philosophy major, aren’t you?”

The two of you grin in tandem before he purses his lips, possible mulling over something before he faces you.

“The two of you are close so … why beat around the bush?”

Your eyes flutter shut, shaking your head. “Like I said, it’s really not that simple.”

He rolls his eyes at you, but it’s not to mock or taunt you. Namjoon simply sees a naive, yet an intelligent girl who doesn’t see what’s right in front of her.

“Remember what I said? I’m a simple guy.” He reminds you, lips in a grin. “Try me.”

You snort, but you’re still nervous. You still remember that he has feelings for you, so you’re hesitant. And he immediately recognises the guilt-ridden expression that you mar.

Namjoon shoots you a stern glare, “Don’t overthink it.”

You sigh.

“Jungkook and I …” You start, fiddling with your thumbs. “We grew up together.”

Namjoon rolls his eyes and shoots you another one of his bland stares. “I know the history. I just want to know why?”

You furrow your brows, “Why?”

“Why the two of you insist on being so emotionally constipated.”

You gape at his audacity, and you’re glad the atmosphere isn’t as tense because Namjoon simply snickers at your reaction.

“I am not—!”

He waves you off, “Really?” He adds dryly.

You purse your lips and relent, even if you didn’t want to agree with him—you knew that he was … right. To a certain extent.

“We kissed.” You blurt.

Namjoon raises an eyebrow, “That’s not surprising.”

You shoot him a dry look before he raises his hands in defence.

“He was my first kiss.”

At this, Namjoon’s widen.

“When you were in high school?” He pries.

You flush, embarrassed that you had to tell him otherwise.

“Two months ago.” You mutter.

Namjoon splutters, and you can’t help but glare at him when he quite literally chokes on his spit. You know you caught him off guard, but him rubbing salt in the wound that’s relatively fresh makes you scowl.

“Oh.” He clears his throat. Then he repeats, “Oh.”

You scoff, “Yeah. Oh.”

“Then … what happened?” You know he’s treading carefully with you when he asks you his question softly.

You purse your lips, and you recall every single moment you’ve shared with him. From giggles to hushed kisses, to intimate touches and sweat-stained sheets that have you gasping for air. You remember it all, and they meant … they meant the world to you, but just a speck in his memory.

“Things escalated and we … did stuff together.” You wince.

Namjoon nods in understanding, he gestures his hands around, “Like—”

“I’m a virgin.”

Namjoon blinks.

“And for the longest time, I felt embarrassed about it.”

“Oh.”

“I struggled to find my footing between being sexually liberated and being a woman because for the longest time I thought those two were mutually exclusive. For me, at least.” You say softly.

Namjoon only stares at you.

“And I always wanted validation from someone else to tell me that what I was doing was the right thing to do. Or the supposed thing to do. Never what I really wanted to do.”

“Not that I’m uncomfortable but … why are you letting me in on this?” Namjoon asks with a raised brow.

“Because I want to do something for myself for once.” You whisper.

“Okay …?”

“Why do you like me? Even if I’m … boring and not as sexy as other women?”

You sound pathetic, and the first person you find yourself comparing yourself to is Jennie—a beautiful, confident woman who looked so assured in herself.

“You’re not—”

You groan.

“Namjoon.”

“Okay.” He sighs. “If you’re asking me if I care that you’re a virgin, then no. I really don’t. Because frankly, that concept to me is false and problematic. Whether or not you’ve had sex or not isn’t any of my business.”

You duck your head.

“And I like you because you’re interesting. You’re funny and you’re assured in your own way. You don’t need to be a certain standard of pretty or sexy or whatever for me to like you. I like you because of the time we’ve spent together and that I’ve gotten to know you. The real you and not the person I admired from afar but the girl who throws in jokes out of nowhere but fits so well with the situation. The girl who’s willing to spend three extra hours of her time to help with content that wasn’t prescribed to her. I like you because I’d like to think I’ve grown to understand who you are.”

Namjoon says all of those things while staring at you straight in the face and you feel compelled to cry. Because no one has ever been so honest with you and you hate that your heart can’t reciprocate what should be an easy feeling that comes naturally.

“Fuck.”

His eyes widen.

“Hey, it’s okay.” He coos, a hand petting your hair gently as you sniffle.

“It’s not, Namjoon. Everything sucks because everything is so complicated. Why can’t I just have feelings for you instead?”

It’s selfish, and Namjoon winces. But you’re so overwhelmed that you miss it, and Namjoon is too nice to point his own feelings out.

“You don’t pick and choose your battles, _____.” He murmurs softly.

“That’s not what my mom told me.” You whimper.

He chuckles, “Yeah. Most people like to believe that because it makes them think that they have a choice over the bad things that happen in their lives. But in reality? They don’t. No one decides what happens to them. You pick and choose how you react to things. How you deal with situations and what you make out of those situations is what you can choose to do. You don’t like me, and that’s fine. You don’t have to just because I’m nice to you, _____. Being nice is the absolute bare minimum and something that everyone should feel and do.”

Your face crumbles, “Why are you so wise?”

Namjoon smiles, “I’m not. It’s called offering a different perspective. Just because I see things one way doesn’t make me any better than you who sees things in another. That’s why we meet different types of people throughout our lives. The good, the bad, the in-between. There’s always something people offer to us in the midst of chaos.”

You sigh.

“I’m sorry, Namjoon.”

He pats your head, “I said don’t apologise.”

“No, but I want to. You’ve been nothing but kind to me and you picked up a shitty situation to be in when Jungkook and Jennie were at the library. Even right after I kissed you. That was … a horrible thing to do. I shouldn’t have done that just because—just because I was confused … you don’t deserve that.”

He doesn’t look angry, and that’s even worst because you want him to react, to call you a bitch and say that you were a horrible person.

“I don’t.” He shrugs while you wince. “But a lot of the times we don’t deserve a lot of things that we get. And that’s okay. You did what you thought was justified then, and there’s nothing you can do to change it. But you’re hurting too, and you’re confused—that’s what drove you to do the things that you did, and even here. That’s why you’re apologising to me, right? Because you’re not as confused anymore?”

You shake your head.

“I am, I’m still so confused.” You whisper.

“Then let me offer you another perspective.”

You look up to him with big eyes as he smiles at you gently.

“You have feelings for Jungkook.” You immediately flinch, even if he didn’t hit you. But Namjoon continues. “You’re trying to keep the picture as simple as you can even if it hurts you in the process. But

“You don’t understand, Namjoon … we … did things … that I’m not proud off …”

“You don’t have to—”

“He was my first kiss. My first … sexual experience. Even if it was just … third base,” You cringe, but Namjoon isn’t judging you at all. “A-and that’s all I was to him. An experience.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Do I, Namjoon?” You say softly. “He said things to me that were so hurtful. And a stupid part of me forgives him but it still hurts every time I think about it and when I see him with Jennie.”

You whisper the words Jungkook’s said to you, and for the first time, you see Namjoon’s jaw harden. The most emotion that wasn’t rationale you’ve seen in Namjoon ever since you first arrived.

“I know it hurts.” He murmurs, holding you close. “And I really don’t want it to seem like I’m justifying his words … but would you want to hear me out?”

You purse your lips and nod nevertheless.

“Jungkook isn’t a bad person.” You blink, you never thought he was. “I know you don’t think he is but you want to. Because of the things he’s said to you because why would a good person say those kinds of things, right? But the world isn’t black and white like that. There’s a grey area where 99% of the population falls into because we operate on emotion and sometimes we say things that we may feel but not necessarily believe in.”

“Jungkook … he’s still young. And I know we’re in college and stuff but he’s still three years younger than I am and two years younger than you. He’s spoken to me about how hard it was to adjust to a high school life where you, Jimin and Tae weren’t a part of. And I don’t know about you but if the only friends I’ve ever known suddenly left because they had to … I wouldn’t know what to do either. He was at a point in his life where his environment played a huge part in the values and internalised beliefs he had.”

You look away as you reflect on his words, nibbling on your bottom lip.

“He mixed around with different groups of people, and I hate this saying but it’s still a common belief to many—especially people his age, almost out of high school. But the ‘boys will be boys’ mentality is more than just misogyny and sexism, but a culture where it feeds off complacency and peer pressure. Jungkook suddenly had to shift from three, good friends who were progressive and influential in an objectively good way to people he was obliged to like because they were his peers.”

You gape at him, purely because you knew that Namjoon was smart and wise but his introspection leaves you breathless and enlightened.

“But that doesn’t change the core of Jungkook,” Namjoon says. “He’s still Jungkook. He doesn’t know how to ask for things that he wants without feeling like he’s betraying his masculinity. And again, I’m not justifying his actions because he’s a grown man too. But he’s lost, and the only thing he knows to uphold this sense of masculinity is by being sexually liberated. Even if he conflates his own emotions with his endeavours.”

“I … I don’t even know what to say Namjoon.” You murmur, eyes looking up through your lashes.

“You don’t need to say anything. I just want you to be honest to yourself, not anyone else. But yourself.” He tells you, carding a gentle hand over your head.

You fiddle with your thumbs.

“What do you want?”

Despite you confiding two different people, you find yourself at a convenience store at 12AM, scarfing down ramen from a cup noodle because your mind was a funny place when it was muddled with a hundred different thoughts. You knew sleep wasn’t an option for you either, and you were hungry. But somehow you didn’t have anything back in your apartment that screamed ‘I’m in a crisis’ enough for you to eat.

Which is why you’re here, while the cashier keeps his eyeball to himself when he sees yet another college student who’s probably having their third mental breakdown of the day.

It is, but not for the right reasons, you think dryly.

You think you’re alone until the chime of the bell momentarily distracts you and you turn your head to acknowledge the next lone customer who may be going through their own set of issues, or had a fucked up sleeping schedule.

But you’re not expecting to make eye contact with Jennie, out of everyone or any stranger you could’ve come across.

She spots you, shoots you a weird look that has you nearly choking on a string of noodles before she moves on to what she came here to do and stops at the snack section, skimming through her options before she settles on a pack of shrimp chips. Your heart churns because they were Jungkook’s favourite. You don’t want to wonder why she picked them.

You turn to your noodles, scarf them down some more because you want to eat your thoughts away even if you’re half-considering to call Jungkook, tell him you wanted to talk. But you knew that if you spoke to him now when you were still sorting out your thoughts, you’d end up in a situation you won’t be ready to deal with.

So when you poke at your food and sigh to yourself, you almost miss the way the stool beside you scrapes against the floor as you cringe.

You turn to shoot a petty glare at the person, and you see Jennie; casually tearing open her chips and popping one into her mouth

You blink at her, and you’re left even more speechless when she juts her hand out as if to offer you a shrimp cracker. Like it was a weird symbol of a truce. Even if you weren’t really … enemies.

“Want some?”

You stare at her, and before you can think twice your lips are moving.

“The crackers or your company?” You say dryly.

Her eyes widen, and so does yours. You didn’t expect to say your exact thoughts and you don’t think she expected a quiet, timid girl like you to have said that—out loud at least. Like Yena said, everyone has a mean bone in them. Some longer and larger than others, but they were still there.

“Wow.” She huffs, but she doesn’t seem offended. “Rude, much?”

You wince and feel compelled to apologise. “Sorry.”

She waves you off and you feel odd to be sitting next to her. You always expected her to be more malicious, a lot more of a bitch. And you frown to yourself because you suppose it’s your own preconceived notions of her due to the association she has with Jungkook that had you thinking of her that way.

“What’s someone like you doing here on a weekday?” She asks off-handedly.

The term ‘someone like you’ doesn’t sit well with you, and you scowl.

“I’m eating. What does it look like?” You retort, and Jennie only raises an eyebrow at your response. Much like an angry kitten.

“Damn, I was just asking.” She mutters under her breath, “I’m hungry. Needed a snack.” She shakes the crackers in front of you, “You sure you don’t want one?”

You can’t believe her as you gape at her easy-going state when she thrusts the bag of crackers into your face yet again.

“No.” You furrow your brows, gently pushing it away as she shrugs her shoulders.

“It’s good.” She reasons, and you don’t know why she’s so adamant about having you take one.

The irrational part of you thinks she wants to poison you, to eliminate you for good so she won’t have to deal with your pathetic pining over a person that wasn’t even yours.

“I know.” You mutter. “I tried it before.”

Jennie nods her head slowly, observing the content of the packet on the back before she turns to face you, “Jungkook introduced this to me. Didn’t see the appeal but it’s addictive.”

You freeze, and your ramen soup is getting cold with the way you haven’t prodded at it for a while and in the air-conditioning in the convenience store. You feel your stomach drop, especially now that your initial suspicions were confirmed.

“That’s nice.” You grit. It really isn’t.

“Did he introduce it to you?” She asks with a tilt of her head.

Why you’re still talking to her, or why she was bothering to talk to you when she’s ignored you all this while—you aren’t sure. But you still answer her despite the spite that forms in your chest.

“I introduced it to him.” You inform.

She hums, unbothered. It only irritates you more.

“Is there a reason?” You huff. “Why you’re here?”

She raises an eyebrow, “I’m hungry?”

You scoff. “No.” You slam the table ever so slightly because even if you were annoyed and confused, you weren’t that brave and you didn’t want to cause a scene at a convenience store at midnight. “Why are you here. Talking to me.”

Jennie blinks at you, then stares at you for seconds too long that you flush under her unwavering stare before she ends up in a fit of giggles. You almost think she’s here to mock you, to call you out on your pathetic and humiliating pining for someone who doesn’t care about you the same way you do to him. But she pats you on the shoulder, and you want to think it’s condescending but it doesn’t seem that way at all.

“You’re an acquaintance. You looked like you needed the company.”

You frown, “I don’t.”

She rolls her eyes, munching on another chip.

“You do. Your posture looks depressing.”

“Excuse me?” You scowl.

“It’s true.” She shrugs. “You don’t seem the type to be here wallowing unless it’s really bad. You seem like you have your shit together.”

And because your mind is already muddled and confused, and filled with irrational thoughts. Her words set you off, and you seem to be underrating or overreacting more than usual. So you snap, you shove your cup aside that the soup nearly sloshes out and send her a glare so blazing that Jennie’s caught off guard.

“And you think you know me well enough to gauge whether or not I’m ‘like this’ or the type to have a perfect mental breakdown regimen because I’m smart?” You seethe. Jennie’s eyes widen. “I have mental breakdowns like every other student and I binge eat when I’m stressed and I fuck up from time to time. I curse, yes! I see your face. Oh does she not curse? Well, look at me, bitch. I can curse like a motherfucking sailor at sea when the fishes come because I’m human. I’m just like you. So fuck off with your ‘you seem like you have your shit together’ because I don’t and I’m so fucking annoyed with your stupid face whenever I see it because it only reminds me of Jungkook!”

The silence is defining, even the cashier stops counting his bills for the night because you don’t hear the rubbing of money together. You feel his stare on your back, and more pressingly, you feel Jennie’s shocked expression linger on your face, and now that you’ve come down from your rage. Your face heats up in embarrassment.

You don’t even recall what you said, except for the fact you’ve mentioned her and Jungkook in the same sentence. And your face pales.

“I …” She chokes.

You flush, before you’re turning away, snatching your belongings to leave and forget this convenience store and never return because you don’t think you can show your face here ever again.

But before you’re able to make a run for it, a hand grabs your elbow that stops you from moving any further.

“This is already as embarrassing—” You exasperate, trying to snatch your arm away.

“For a girl so smart, you’re really dumb, aren’t you?” She deadpans.

You gape, finding enough strength to retrieve your arm as you stare at her with a dumbfounded expression.

“Excuse me—?”

“Firstly, let’s unpack what you just said because there are a lot of things that need to be dissected here.” She says blankly.

You scowl, “Look I don’t—”

“One.” She blinks as if she was doing a presentation for a course and not talking to an alleged acquaintance. “I don’t think you should act a certain way just because you’re smart. You’re entitled to your own mechanisms and I’m not judging you for them. I was simply pointing out my own observations, and I’m sorry for being insensitive.”

You’re stunned to silence, because did Jennie just … apologise to you?

“Two.” She says. You listen silently. “I think you have things you need to talk to Jungkook about, and frankly—I would’ve stayed away if I knew that the two of you were a thing.”

“We’re not a thing!” You cry, face flushed.

She shoots you an unimpressed look, “Really. So that oddly targeted blow-up was because of your mental breakdown and not because you don’t have feelings for Jungkook?”

She’s the third person to call you out the same day, or within the first one in the next. And it’s even more embarrassing because it’s the girl you’ve compared yourself to countless times because of your own insecurities.

“Yes.” You snap childishly.

Jennie sighs, gesturing for you to sit on the stool. You want to defy her out of spite, but you’ve already gotten this far into the conversation and you feel like you’d miss out on something if you left now.

“Why are you mad at me?” She asks.

“I-I’m not mad—” You weakly protest.

“You are. There’s anger in you and if it’s not directed to Jungkook then it’s directed to me. Is it because I’m a woman?”

Your eyes widen, “What—?”

“Let me reword that,” She sighs. “Is it because I’m the woman with Jungkook?”

You flinch at her declaration, especially since she indirectly confessed to being with him, while you weren’t.

“I don’t …” You trail off in a whisper.

“I don’t blame you for being angry.” She says. “But I need you to understand that I would never have done anything with him if I knew that the two of you were together.”

“We’re not.” You blink, and her unimpressed look is still there that makes you speak a little louder. “We’re not together.”

She opens her mouth to say something, then shuts it. You see her furrow her eyebrows before she settles for a response that comes a few moments after.

“Okay, then if you’re not together then why the resentment?” She puts it so simply and now that you’re listening to her, you feel a lot stupider.

“I just …” You croak, fiddling with your fingers, “I don’t …”

She sighs, “Listen. We’re both women here. I know how it feels to be left in the dark when it comes to things like this but there’s no point in being angry at me when in reality it’s Jungkook you need to talk to. If you aren’t together then I don’t understand why you’re angry with me—or with him.”

You sit there in silence, nearly pouting like a scolded child.

“You’re his type.” You say softly.

Jennie pauses before she raises an eyebrow.

“And you believe that?”

You furrow your eyebrows, “I mean, of course?” You mumble, “You’re pretty, confident and sexy. Any guy would like you.”

For a moment, you think you’ve said too much. Looked to vulnerable. But Jennie doesn’t do the typical mean girl thing where she laughs in your face and threatens to expose you. Instead, her eyes soften, and her hand reaches out to hold yours.

“____.” She calls your name gently, and you look away, embarrassed. “You’re pretty. You’re confident. You are sexy.”

You flush, “No. I’m not.”

She scoffs, “_____, there isn’t a set definition of what a pretty woman is like. Nor is there a one-dimensional understanding of a confident woman. There are confident women who strut in their walk and commands all the attention in the room. But there are also quiet, assured women who are intelligent and confident in their capabilities. Both of them are so different, but the one thing that they have in common?” She prompts as your eyebrows furrow. “They’re both women who are worthy of love.”

You blink up at her when her tone goes softer.

“I don’t think I’m Jungkook’s type.” She tells you.

But for some reason you need to deny it, again.

“I think you are.” You mumble, “You’re … you. And you’re probably … experienced.” You cringe at what you say, and you’re mortified if you need to explain yourself to her. But Jennie immediately picks up on it, and you don’t notice how she tenses for a split second but recovers immediately.

“We’ve done things together, yes.” You feel your heart shatter, “But you don’t have to do anything with him for him to like you.”

You sigh, “Maybe. But that's the only way he’s ever wanted me.” You say so softly that Jennie almost doesn’t catch it.

Jennie’s face softens much more, turning into a much gentler expression as she nudges your chin to look at her. And when you do, you feel wounded. You feel so much less assured than you were when you were raging at her. You hated it, how she treated you so kindly when she should’ve been cursing at you like you did to her.

“Do you want to know something?” She asks.

You nibble on your lips before you nod your head.

“If someone doesn’t want you. It’s not because you’re lacking. It’s because they’re lacking the sense to perceive you in a way that recognises your inherent worth to be loved.”

Your breath hitches and Jennie continues.

“I’ve had instances where men didn’t want to sleep with me because I was too confident, too sexually liberated for them. As if who I slept with mattered because it wasn’t them. It was never going to be them.”

“I didn’t sleep with Jungkook.” You tell her, voice soft as if you needed to clarify.

“And you don’t need to. You don’t need to sleep with anyone for them to want you. If Jungkook only wants you for your body then he doesn’t deserve you.” She points out.

You feel your heart clench, and the realisation coming from Jennie only hurts even more.

“But he’s important to me …” You whisper.

“What’s important is not always what’s good for you.” She informs you with a gentle smile. “Your sexuality is yours. And if you want to sleep or be sexual with someone, you do it because you want to. Not because someone coerced you into doing it.”

Your eyes widened, “N-No. Jungkook didn’t force me. I consented. To all of it.” You murmur, “I wanted to do it. B-But I just felt so … lacking? In comparison and … since then all he’s came to me for was just … that.”

Jennie nibbles on her bottom lip, “Jungkook’s not a bad person.” She says softly. And she’s the second person that tells you that. So you know it’s a true reflection of his character.

“I know.”

She smiles, “We both do.” She nods, “But he’s misguided. He’s never had the ability to be with someone he really cares for and I think when that happened—he dealt with it the only way he knows how to.”

You furrow your brows, “But he’s with you.”

She shakes her head with a small chuckle, “No. Not emotionally, at least.” She informs. “And he doesn’t care about me. I know. He’s always kept me at arms-length away, and I’m fine with that because I don’t like him like that either.”

You blink, and your ears turn red. “H-How do you—?”

“How do I separate lust from affection?” She laughs. “It’s because I can. Not everyone can do that, and Jungkook is one of them.”

“But you just said that he didn’t care about you.”

“I’m not talking about me,” She smiles sadly.

Your eyebrows scrunch in confusion until you realise what she was implying. And you don’t want to assume anything, never. Because hope was the one feeling that was worse than fear and you didn’t want to subject yourself to that just yet.

“Oh.” You mumble.

She nods, squeezing your hand.

“I think he misses you.”

You purse your lips.

You missed him, too.

Oops

Rita Calhoun x Casey Novak, Established Calvak

A wee comfort fic for these two as I totally love them.

Warnings: mentions of Casey's office attack, migraine / mild medical concern. Side effects of getting older. No smut but alluded to. Happy ending.

Please let me know if you have any other prompts or requests for these two. Happy to try write more for them.

Oops

"You did it again."

The accusing tone made Casey's head snap up from where she was nestled on the couch. She could feel the light crust of dried drool on her cheek where she'd pretty much passed out into the pillow and rubbed at it with the cuff the sweater she was wearing in the hopes that her always immaculately dressed girlfriend wouldn't notice,

"Did what again?" she finally mumbled in response, a heavy pout in place as she scrunched her eyes against the bright light streaming in the apartment windows.

Rita sighed huffily as she perched on the back of the couch and busied herself with finishing taking off her earrings for the day. From there she finally caught sight of the sleep befuddled Casey - the creases of the pillow evidently pressed into her cheek, hair all mussed and cocooned in softest of old sweaters that Rita owned as the redhead obviously tried to drag her lagging brain through what it was she had done wrong this time.

Her expression immediately switched from frustration to concern as she reached out to card her fingers through Casey's hair, the younger woman automatically leaning into it and shifting closer to where Rita was sat,

"You left files that I shouldn't see on the breakfast bar again. We got a place with room for two separate offices for a reason darling."

Casey winced and opened one eye to finally look up at Rita as she apologised,

"Oops, m'sorry babe, I genuinely didn't mean to. I just needed different light. "

Rita tilted her head and gave a small sympathic noise as Casey burrowed her head against the back of the couch,

"Migraine again sweetheart?" Casey nodded groggily where she lay, loathe to commit to any movements that required further effort. Seeing her so forlorn pulled at Rita's heartstrings and she quickly got up and shed her shoes and jacket onto a nearby chair as she came round to the front of the couch to join Casey, "That's the third bad one this month..."

Hearing the familiar sound of Rita settling next to her Casey shifted to lay her head in her girlfriend's lap, wordlessly requesting for the attorney's always slightly cool hand to run across her forehead and circle at her temple as she'd done before by simply tipping her chin just so.

Of course Rita automatically took up the action, also using her free hand to run her nails in soothing circles across Casey's lower back.

The redhead let herself just bask in the attention and comfort. She'd felt instantly a bit better as soon as the scent of Rita's expensive perfume had reached her - always accompanied by the faint smell of coffee, ink and paper, a lawyerly smell if ever there was such a thing. That and the almost pavlovian way her body responded to Rita's touch, practically commanding her to relax with the lightest of pressures, also helped ease the residual pulsating ache at the front of her brain.

Afterwards she'd been sulky for days, which had drawn further unimpressed looks and rolled eyes from Rita. Eventually she'd pulled her head out of her ass and apologised with a gorgeous bouquet and an evening of pampering - cooking Rita's favourites for dinner, making the effort to use the good china and having candles on the table followed by a super indulgent bubble bath for the brunette (the rose petals may have been overboard but she knew Rita secretly adored them.)

She knew where Rita's comment was leading though. They'd had this argument discussion the last time too and she was not wanting a repeat of that general fiasco and to ultimately wallow in her own grumpiness yet again. It was worse because she knew Rita was right, and was only concerned and fussing simply because she loved her. But she had still been in residual pain and exhaustion from the migraine in question as well as licking her wounds from losing the most recent case to her lover too.

All that had only been a week ago, meaning it was less than fourteen days since she'd last had to abandon her work to lie in a darkened room with a cold compress across her eyes and an ice pack wrapped up at the base of her neck. It wasn't sustainable, and she hated being sick all the more because she knew Rita was always more worried than she let on.

She sighed lightly and wriggled her head back so she was pressed more closely into Rita's ridiculously soft silk blouse. The brunette had lifted her hands away as Casey moved but seeing her settle let them resume the gentle caresses. Noting that Casey hadn't immediately started arguing with her Rita decided to press her case once more,

"I just think given that you have such a bad head injury in your past, " Casey couldn't suppress the fearful shiver that ran down her spine at the memories - and lack of them - of her office attack, "that it would be sensible to get a doctor to run some tests and check what is going on."

At still receiving no response from Casey Rita tried to push just that little bit more. She gently ran a finger down the elegant slope of Casey's nose, booping the tip of it which made Casey start and turn onto her back to smile softly up at Rita. Holding her gaze Rita matched her with an indulgent look as she tucked some hair back behind Casey's ear,

"It's just that I'm rather fond of that brain of yours sweetheart, I'd hate to think anything might be wrong." She finished her plea by cupping Casey's chin and running the pad of her thumb over her lips as their positioning meant she couldn't reach to kiss them.

Once again Casey closed her eyes and leaned into the touch,

"And here I thought you were with me for my 'cracking bod', " she grinned as she felt Rita's entire body move as she laughed, "But I know. You're right. As usual." Her admission made Rita smile in victory, Casey's quip pulling another knowing chuckle that rumbled through her,

"Good, I have the number of an excellent neurologist, I'm sure he'll be able to see you by the end of the week."

Casey shot her a look that screamed incredulity,

"He wasn't a client was he? I'm not sure how comfortable I would be with that."

The experienced attorney did laugh at that,

"No, no," she continued to play with Casey's hair, "although he has maybe been an expert witness on several occasions but he's only ever been the utmost professional." she paused for a moment as Casey considered her options. "So what do you say darling, let me call and set up an appointment for you?"

With one last resigned sigh Casey nodded,

"Okay," honestly she was prepared to go through nearly anything if she could stop feeling so accutely crappy whenever these migraines came along, or stop them from happening in the first place.

"But," the smallness of her voice and demeanour, so unlike the usual strong confident persona of the prosecutor, brought out Rita's overprotective side even more, "But what if there is something wrong? Like-"

Deciding to quickly end any spiralling Rita pressed her finger over Casey's lip to hush her,

"Shh, then its better to know and we'll deal with whatever it may be together as best we can."

Suitably mollified, Casey rolled once more so her nose was buried against Rita's stomach, so much so her voice was muffled when she finally spoke,

"I'm sorry, I'm just worried."

"I know darling, but it may just be that you need glasses or something like that now, you know?"

The scandalised and affronted noise that escaped Casey made Rita laugh once again,

"I've always thought you'd look very sexy in glasses you know..."

The low purr of her voice drew an instant reaction from Casey, it always did. Like a siren's call she opened her eyes, feeling better enough to shoot a flirtatious look up at her love as she arched her eyebrow as seductively as she could manage in her prone position,

"Is that so?"

"Hmm hmm," Rita's affirmative humm came as she matched Casey's expression with one of her own, "You could totally pull off the sexy librarian look darling."

"Librarian!?!"

In her offense Casey finally sat up to lightly glare at Rita on a more equal footing. She lightly trailed her hand up Rita's thigh, so overly unsubtle Rita knew she was just winding her up. Still she enjoyed the attention nonetheless. "What if I wanted to go for the sexy lawyer in glasses look? Could I pull that one off too?"

Rita tipped her head to the side as she squinted at Casey, umming and awwing for extra effect,

"I'm sorry love but I think Cabot has got that niche locked down tight."

Casey couldn't help but gasp at the teasing and swat at Rita's thigh in retribution,

"Rude!"

Rita kept cackling with laughter, simply relieved to see Casey's usual firey playfulness was returning,

"Well if you get glasses you can work extra hard to prove me wrong, no?"

With a knowing smile Casey leant forward to press an adoring but chaste kiss to Rita's lips,

"Sounds good to me, thank you for helping me feel better."

Reaching up Rita cupped Casey's chin and drew her face back to her for another kiss. Or two. Maybe three. She just loved how they felt against her own.

"I'm glad I could help. Now do you want to go lock those files away whilst I give the doctor a call? We can then get an order from Chengs if you'd like?"

Casey was already making the effort to stand, holding herself still for several moments to ensure her balance was set after feeling so woozy earlier. Finding herself steady she smiled at Rita once more as she started heading for the kitchen,

"As long as there is lo mein I don't mind!"

A couple of days later Rita answered her ringing cell automatically, not even looking away from her inbox as she barked her usual response,

"Calhoun, who's speaking."

"Hey sweet thing," instantly Rita's entire posture melted, Casey's voice and determination to use ridiculous pet names totally always got her,

"Darling, how'd the appointment go." she'd swung her chair away from the computer screen, her entire focus now on Casey,

"Well you were right."

"I usually am, remind me what I was right about this time?"

"Scans and everything came back clear but I've got glasses to wear now... " Casey paused long enough for Rita to both sigh in relief and laugh,

"Oh is that all?"

"Well, he advised I change to a different type fo light bulb where possible, and definitely to wear glasses when looking at screens as they'll filter that blue light thing? But that and some proper rest and it should all help."

"That's great news sweetheart, I'm so relieved." Truly Rita felt like a knot she hadn't known was there had been released in her chest,

"Yeah, so in the spirit of medical necessity, I think we should schedule a trip up to the house in the Hampton's." Sometimes Casey still would catch herself after saying such a thing. A house in the Hampton's. Their house in the Hamptons. Quite ridiculous.

Rita chuckled but instantly swept round to open their shared calendar to look for potential timings,

"An excellent idea darling, I could even ask Danielle to get the boat ready for us? I know you love to play at being Captain."

"Please, you just want to lounge about in your bikini in front of me don't you."

"Well with your new glasses we'll have to test how much better you can see me. I do love putting on a show for you."

The flirtation made Casey gulp, images of Rita enjoying herself nearly overwhelming her,

"You always do have the best ideas, I propose we do lots of testing."

"For medical necessity?" Rita's smirk was clear even though Casey couldn't see her face,

"Exactly, you always know how to take the best care of me baby..."

Until We Meet Again

this is absolutely something that nobody asked for, but here it is. short ‘n sweet and full of fluff.

A grotesque concoction of alcohol- some variant of overpriced vodka and lemon liqueur if she had to guess, set the delicate lining of her throat ablaze and she winced as she set the empty coupe glass on the tray of passing waiter. She glanced down at the watch face on the underside of her wrist and frowned at it.

An hour late to the event, and an hour left to go.

Eliciting a dejected sigh, she gazed past the expansive tent above her and at the night sky beyond it that blanketed the fountains of the Pacific Design Center in West Hollywood in inky darkness. The cacophonous roar of hundreds of conversations and pulsating music was unbearably loud and she cursed herself for leaving her phone at home. She could picture it now, lying face down on the glass coffee table just inside her front entrance and in total darkness and for a fleeting moment she found herself inexplicably jealous of it. She had given up on trying to locate her friends fifteen minutes ago- though she thought she had just spotted Keane through throngs of expensive suits and dresses in a straight bee-line for the bar and thought that she ought to head there. Taking a deep breath, she stepped out into the crowd before her in search of him, but stumbled back awkwardly when the bottom of her gown caught on something and ripped.

“Oh my gosh, I just ripped your dress. I am so sorry.” She peered up at the man towered above her, at the glassy blue orbs that somehow still glittered lively under the minimal lighting from the chandeliers around them. Everything about him was immaculate. From the perfectly combed back sandy blonde hair, to the blonde mustache that grew above his pink upper lip, to the black silk bowtie that sat snug against the base of his throat.

She found his visage oddly familiar, but could not place where she might have known him from if her life depended on it. She found herself shrugging. “Honestly don't worry about it. It's one of the many reasons I try to shop thrift before big events.”

Though he offered her a shy smile, his glassy blue gaze remained unsure and it was obvious that he still wasn't convinced. “No really- is there any way it can be fixed? I can get someone over here right now to look at it for you...”

She glanced down at the sizable rip in the fabric and knew with a slight pang that the damage was irreparable. “No, please. It's really fine.”

He chewed at edge of his lip as he mulled something over and cocked his head to the side, his gaze narrowed. “At least allow me to pay for it?”

She had purchased it off the rack at one of her favourite thrift haunts on Melrose for thirty bucks, two weeks ago. She couldn't, in good faith, agree to that. “Listen- this dress has probably had a fantastic life, you know? She finished it this evening at an Emmy award after party. How many other dresses can say that? She's good. This is the end of the line for her.”

They stood in thoughtful silence for a moment, the only sign of his defeat came in the form of a resigned sigh. “Alright. But please know that I still feel slightly terrible about it.”

“I can live with slightly terrible,” She smiled knowingly at him. “Are you having a good night, then?”

He gazed at her, a funny expression coloured his features and she suddenly felt very vulnerable. “I am having a great night, actually.” He eventually confirmed. “Are you having a good night? That is- despite the gown crisis.”

She hugged her arms tight to her chest and glanced around in awe at the sheer sumptuousness of the tent in which she was currently in. Massive, golden lion statues guarded pillars around the room and gilded archways had been erected over ponds so that guests could traverse them at their leisure. No matter how many evenings she spent this way, she doubted that she would ever grow accustomed to it.

“I've never really been one for big parties, but it's been alright so far I suppose. Even despite the gown crisis.” She found that she enjoyed the way a subtle, rosy hue tinted the apples of his cheeks at her slightly teasing lilt. Her stomach gurgled warningly just then- a gentle reminder that she had not consumed an adequate amount of food and she eyed the lavish, twenty-foot replica of a dragon above her head with mild contempt. “God, I'd fight that dragon for a plate of fries right about now. Every year I tell myself I'm going to be on time for one of these events, and every year I let myself down.”

He dropped his head to his chest and elicited a hearty laugh. “You missed out this evening I'm afraid. It was Wolfgang Puck on the buffet.”

“Damn it,” She giggled under her breath. “Every single year.”

He gestured out at the mass of conversing industry people and raised his voice so that she could hear him. “You work for HBO?” He asked.

She shook her head. “Nah, I snuck in an hour ago under the guise of free food and booze.”

“Neither of which you have yet to receive…” He grinned.

“Not exactly,” She giggled. “I snuck a cocktail minutes before the old dress debacle. Tasted somewhat like what I would imagine lemon pine-sol tastes like.” Genuine laughter rose up from the base of his throat like a favourite song and she waited for it to subside with an unabashed smile on face. “I'm a freelance photographer.” She admitted, eventually.

He cleared his throat, poised to ask her another question when his gaze lit up and he cocked his head to the side in thought. “Would you excuse me for a moment? I think I've found a way to repay you for your dress.”

Her eyes widened in mild horror and she shook her head in protest. “Oh- no. Please don't…” But her objections were for naught as she watched his imposing figure vanish into the thickening swarm of people. She chewed anxiously at the soft flesh of her inner lip as she awaited his return and when ten minutes elapsed, she began to grow skeptical.

Too tall. Too Scandinavian. Too beautiful.

But then, and to her pleasant surprise, she spotted his face through the crowd and her heart thrummed in her chest as he approached her. There, in the flat of his palm and high above the heads of everyone else so as not to drop the dish- was a plate heaped high with piping-hot French fries. “This is akin to Christmas,” She sighed longingly once he had rejoined her. “But somehow a little bit better. Thank you very much.”

Wiping the proverbial sweat from his brow, he managed a nonchalant shrug. “Oh, they were exceedingly difficult to procure, but I was persistent.” He handed her the plate with a lux serviette underneath and a fork on the side. “Wolfgang and I uh… we go way back.”

Glancing over her shoulder, she spotted a vacant table a few yards away and decided to be brave. “You know… If he supplied you with a second fork, I'd be happy to share some of these with you.”

His gaze followed hers to the table and he smiled sadly. “Alas Wolfgang let me down and I was not offered a second fork, but I would be delighted to sit and chat with you for a few more minutes.”

Sinking into the refuge of the chair beneath her, she was suddenly aware that she had barely been offered a chance to do that all day long. She was content to listen to him speak while she tried not to inhale her entire plate of perfectly fried potatoes.

“I'm sure your date is probably wondering where you've wandered off to.” She offered, after a few moments of comfortable silence had lapsed.

He smiled and shook his head. “I’m sure she’s used to it by now. Probably been wondering that very same thing for most of my life.”

She cocked her head to the side, and narrowed her gaze at him. “Have we met before? You seem so familiar.”

His expression dimmed and that same shy smile that he had given her half an hour earlier presented itself again, causing butterflies to take flight in the pit of her belly. 

“I don't believe so,” He gave his head a half-shake. “I would have remembered your face anywhere.”

Utterly grateful for the dim lighting around them, she opened her mouth to counter his last statement when a man she didn't recognize appeared at his side, in a hurry and out of breath. “Alex- you need to take this back now. I am sick of people congratulating me for it and I am entirely out of answers as to how it came to be in my possession.” Without another word, the man placed an Emmy award unceremoniously in front of Alex's amused figure and hurried away.

She nodded at the unsuspecting statuette of a woman laden with a golden atom and quirked an eyebrow in mild amusement. “You are having a very great night indeed, hm?” She simpered.

Sensing that her cue to leave had arrived, she rose from the table to bid Alex goodnight.

“Your company has been a pleasure this evening… I am sorry about your dress.”

She glanced down at the French fry plate, the few scattered crumbs the only indication that something had once been there. “Your penance was plenty.”

“Two questions before you go,” He murmured.

She peered up at him expectantly.

“A photographer without her camera?”

She shrugged and offered him a wry smile. “Everyone gets a night off every once in a blue moon. Next?”

His gaze travelled to the fabric napkin poking out from beneath the empty plate, then back to hers. “Thanks to Paul, you now know my name. What's yours?”

She tilted her head to the side, a half-smile tugged at her lips. “It's Grace.”

“Grace,” He repeated it in a whisper and she ignored the way that it caused goosebumps to bloom in patterns over her bare arms. “Goodnight Grace.” He rose from the table with his award at his side but faltered and turned back to her, remembering something. “Oh- and Grace? Maybe don't leave behind the serviette.”

Puzzled, she watched a hive of bodies swallow his frame, and when he was gone, she reached for the weighted crème fabric, smiling softly to herself. There, in loopy black script from a fountain pen was Alex's name and phone number and a short note that read,

“Until we meet again…”

Decided to delete my Instagram account. I opened it a few months ago, but it just wasn't doing anything for me.

I was basically just repeating my posts here, lol.

I've been on tumblr for years. Seriously....years.

A few different accounts along the way.

This one has been my longest time with one account. Maybe what, around five years I think?

I'm comfortable here. It's familiar.

I thought I'd give Instagram a go, but nah. It's not my scene.

Plus I just got sick of the incessant, daily "send your pics here!!!" notifications.

So yeah, I've deleted it.

I'll stick with what I know, and what I like 👍.

Witness, Judge, Executioner

Requests: Open!

“I only remember h-how my mother…"tried to speak Y/N as she hold onto her glass of whisky and had her gaze focused on the fireplace. "My mother’s screams are all I remember. There was also a lot of blood. My father was face down. My brother told me to hide, and I did. I ran upstairs and hid under my bed, while I was crying and trying to hold my breath… quiet as a mouse, trying not to make any noise noise.” said Y/N as she turned away the tears that started to rolled down her face, began to tremble at the memory that kept haunting her 20 years.

She rose from the couch where she was sat and walked towards the fireplace, where she took the whisky glass with her and gave it a sip.

Steve, un the other hand was quiet, rubbing his hands as he nodded and looked down at his lap. Clenching his teeth as he learned the part of the story that followed, he couldn't help but stand up and go to were his friend and teammate was, to try to comfort her as he put one of his hands on her shoulder and he squeezed it as a sign of reassurance.

“Suddenly my mother’s screams ceased after hearing the echo of a gunshot. At that moment I knew that I had no one left in this world, that I was alone.” she said before she finished drinking her whisky. “I heard his footsteps crawling up the creaking stairs… his fucking steady, slow steps approached the hallway leading to my room.. And-And then...”

“Y/N… Please.” Steve begged with tears in his eyes as he looked at his friend with supplication. “Don’t. You don't have to keep telling me this. Just-"

“Every night I heard in my dreams his slow and tortuous steps that are getting closer and closer to me. I also hear the cries of my mother and her gasps and moans from crying so much for my father and brother, Steve. I can still hear her, begging for him to stop and to leave me alone! Like that night.” Y/N said as she threw the glass furiously into the fire and looked at her friend. “He knew perfectly well where I was hiding. We both knew what was coming for me. That’s why when he grabbed my foot and dragged me out from under my bed, I thought it was all over and that at least... and t-that at least, I would be reunited with my family. That he was gonna kill me, that was going to put an end to my misery, but no.” said furiously the woman, feeling how the anger invaded her, as she watched the fire consume the wood. “He looked at me like it wasn't worthy... killing me, like it wasn’t worthy spending one more bullet for a six-year-old little girl."

"He did the worst thing he could do to me, Stevie..." the young avenger sobbed with a frown, as she could savor those salty tears that came down her face. "He left me alive."

“You need to understand that it wasn’t Bucky who did all that. It wasn't him. He had no choice or– Look. He was being controlled by HYDRA. You-you know he didn’t–”

“I don’t care! I don't care, okay!?” shouted Y/N. “I was a child and I witnessed how that son of a bitch killed my family... My entire family! First to go was my brother, then my father and finally my mother. And he left me alive? Why!? Huh, why!?” screamed Y/N with more anger and pain than before, as she approached dangerously to Steve, who was looking at her with sadness and pain in the eyes because of her words. “I don’t care if that sick bastard is a friend of yours or if he was being controlled like a fucking puppet for all those bloody decades! The nightmares he has and all his demons are more than well deserved! It’s what he deserves.” said the las thing in a whisper while she pointed at him with her finger.

“Are you listening to yourself Y/N!? This is not you!”

“Oh, you are damn wrong there, Cap. This is me.” said Y/N as she pulled out her gun and loaded it. “But... you know what?" she looked at her gun and later to Rogers. "What that son of a bitch really deserves is the bullet that I’m about to put in his head. But first I'm gonna beat the crap out of him. It's the least I can do for him, isn't it?” the female faked a smile before she left the room in search of her prey, but not before take care of locking Steve in the room, without him being able to escape in any way.

"No! Don't do it, Y/N! Please! NO!" was the last thing Steve said before his teammate ran out of the place.

Steve kept repeating that scene in his head over and over and over again, as he sat on the floor and stared at the wall - waiting for his friend to arrive and tell him she had committed her purpose, which terrified, pissed and saddened him deeply.

The room in which the Captain was locked was upside down. He had tried to use every possible object and piece of furniture to try to open the door of the bunker in which he was, which was one of the panic rooms in the tower. Although, it had to be admitted that several of the broken furniture was because he had paid all the frustration and helplessness he felt by broking them.

He felt like an enclosed beast looking for a desperate way to escape a trap.

"Crap!" he said as he threw a wooden chair against the steel door. "Fuck," exclaimed as he accelerated his breathing and began to cry again. He had lost count of how many times he had done it since he was locked up. "This can't be happening..." he sobbed as he fell on his knees, hands on his face.

He had not only lost Bucky that day, but also Y/N, who would do anything to accomplish her personal task, even if it cost her her own life. He knew that the fight that had taken place could have been fatal for either of his two friends.

"There must-"

Suddenly the enclosure door opened, the blonde man looked up and with red, watery eyes and watched Y/N, who was trying to catch her breath and was covered in blood. He didn't know if it was hers or Bucky's, maybe it was from both of them. "I did it," whispered the young woman with a trembling voice.

"Y/N..." Rogers tried to get up slowly, carefully.

"I did it, Steve. I have... done it. I-I've killed my family's murderer," the female said with a tired sigh as she approached her friend. "He... Al-he was... I- Goddammit, I was s-so..." Y/N, exhausted, tried to talk to him before she fainted, Steve catch her.

Okay, first of all, this was an idea I had a long time ago and that I'd like to turn into a series, but I'm not sure if I'm going to do it or not. If so, I would like to publish it this summer, when I have more free time and have managed to finish most of the requests I have right now, so everyone would be happy.

Btw if anyone would be interested in being tagged in the story, just let me know so I'll start doing a tag list for this story!

And that's it, good night my dudes!

Buster & Rio

Buster: I need a fucking drink Buster: Please tell me you aren't working Rio: Be helpful if I was Rio: Barmaid, remember Buster: There's only so many times I can buy you a drink from that side though Buster: I've had a shit day, yeah, but it ain't gonna be better if I turn into that cunt drinking alone, like Rio: Never-ending supply of sad company in this gaff, babe Rio: What's up? Buster: You don't wanna hear about it Buster: I can't say her name to you, can I Rio: I mean, yeah, gonna need another barmaid if you want sympathy for your domestic Rio: Know too much to be impartial Buster: It's not sympathy I want Rio: Use it as euphemistically as you like Buster: I don't mean that either Buster: Fuck's sake Buster: I just wanna sort this out Rio: Then hadn't you better talk to her? Buster: What the fuck do you think I've been doing? Buster: Some twat was flirting with her in Coppers and I don't have a leg to stand on Buster: Same goes for her wanting to keep things going casual, with my rep what am I meant to say? Buster: No thanks you're alright Rio: Like I said Rio: Got the wrong girl Rio: You expect me to care? Buster: Are you trying to tell me you don't? Buster: Come on Buster: Just tell me what to do Rio: Yeah, that's exactly what I'm saying Rio: Sort yourself out, McKenna Rio: you're turning into a real sad act Buster: Fuck off Rio: Honestly Rio: Miss me with your boring marital woes Rio: Poor bitch is 18 and you're a cunt Rio: why would she want to be tied to you Buster: She doesn't that's what I'm saying Buster: But she won't go away either Rio: Whatever Rio: Ghost her, continue to cheat on her, what's it matter? Rio: Never struggled before Buster: Fuck me you're annoying Rio: You're stupid Rio: and full of yourself Rio: more fool her too if she wants to be treated like this much of a mug Buster: Fuck you Buster: I don't know why I bother with you Rio: Sure you don't Buster: What's that meant to mean? Rio: Whatever you want it to Buster: Bullshit Buster: Say what you wanna say and stop being such a fucking coward Rio: Me? Please Rio: You're the one that can't even dump a bitch Buster: Shut up Rio: It's pathetic Rio: You're pathetic, Buster Buster: 'Cause you're not Rio: Least I'm not dragging down whoever I can with me Buster: Just me, yeah? Rio: Piss off Rio: it's your sin as much as mine Rio: ain't my fault if you can't commit to stopping Buster: It's your fault that you can't control yourself Buster: I only have to look at you and you're on top of me Rio: Ha pot kettle first off Rio: and not like you can't say no Rio: take some responsibility for yourself and get over this pity party Rio: because I don't care Rio: you think Erin will? Good luck Buster: I told you I liked her and I wanted to stop Buster: But you can't stay away from me, can you Rio: Well, that's the downside to fucking your family Rio: better warn the others, oh wait Rio: they're not that fucked up Buster: You reckon? Buster: I've got news for you, babe, the whole lot of you are Rio: Yeah, you and Nancy are SO well adjusted Rio: Like before, you ain't got a leg to stand on so I'd quit whilst you have the smallest shred of dignity left Buster: I ain't trying to say I am Buster: You're the one chatting shit about sin and virtue like it ain't just more bullshit excuses Rio: You're sure trying to put all the blame on me Buster: I'm not gonna make it easy for you, sorry Rio: Just for yourself Rio: Don't worry, no one expects any more from you Buster: Good Rio: That it then? Buster: Depends if you've got any more bullshit you wanna pass off as wisdom, like Rio: I've got nothing to say to you Buster: Sure? Say it while you can, babe, 'cause it won't even work on Indie much longer Rio: Fuck off Rio: I'm not the one that's all alone Buster: I'm not the one who can't be Rio: Sure about that? Rio: Nah, one pitiful 'real' relationship (in which you can't even keep it in your pants) after a different girl every night and you've got it all worked out Rio: Sort your own shit before coming for mine Buster: Why wouldn't I be better off with everyone dragging me down? Buster: Sort yourself out before nobody needs you anymore Buster: 'cause fuck knows what you're gonna do then Rio: Yeah, EVERYONE ELSE is the problem Rio: not you Rio: Genius! Buster: In this family, yeah Rio: Fuck off back to London then Buster: And do what, work in bar or take my clothes off for money? Rio: Don't think you've got the personality for it, babe Rio: but feel free to try Buster: Leave that to you, trying hard enough for all of us, like Rio: You're not 12 Rio: so uncool to care Rio: done you so well Buster: Neither are you Buster: Just fucking grief for her Rio: Fuck off Rio: Then what? Get a pointless Uni degree and a vanilla man like you and my life will be so sorted Buster: Pointless for you Buster: Not my fault if you ain't smart enough to keep up, babe Rio: Gutted, like Rio: Keep pretending you've got it all figured out Rio: sure that'll keep you warm when you're miserable with your shit job and shit bird Buster: I haven't figured out anything Buster: Feel free to keep judging Rio: Yeah, no shit Rio: Your life's a fucking trainwreck and you've got the audacity to lecture me Buster: 'Cause you're pretending yours ain't Buster: Be real for a fucking second, it won't kill you Rio: With you? Rio: Why bother, Buster Rio: what's it achieved Buster: Fuck off then Buster: Don't bother chatting to me at all Rio: I won't Rio: You started this Buster: And you just had to finish it, yeah? Buster: Well done Rio: Why should you get to make all the calls Rio: I've got some fucking say whether you care to listen or not Buster: All I do is listen Buster: Try hearing yourself Rio: What use is it? Rio: All just talk, yeah Buster: What else is there? You think I wanna see you? Buster: I fucking hate you Rio: No you don't Rio: might wish you did but that feeling's fucking mutual Buster: Now who ain't listening Buster: I know you heard me Rio: You say a lot of things Buster: And I mean them Buster: Stay away from me, Rio Rio: Now who's being a coward Buster: Call it what you like Rio: Call it how I see it Rio: because you started this wanting to see me Rio: you're weak and you're a coward Buster: Shut up Buster: I can change my mind, you're not that special, babe Rio: Yeah, watch you change it back tomorrow Rio: Been here before Buster: If you really could see everything you reckon you can you'd know that I wanted to see you 'cause I was mad at Erin Buster: It's not even about you Rio: Whatever Rio: She's over you too Buster: Maybe Rio: Clearly Rio: Always playing for time, babe Rio: Won't you feel smug when Chloe is the only one who gives a damn Buster: Says you who's stringing this out 'cause you can't bear the thought of not having me in your inbox Rio: Good one Rio: Not as if you ever left Rio: Don't take up smack, like Buster: You either Buster: If I'm weak what the fuck are you? Rio: I'm not out here pretending otherwise Buster: Be a first Buster: You pretend about everything else Rio: Takes one to know one Buster: Hilarious Buster: Grow up, Cavante Rio: You first Buster: Watch me Buster: Christ, I liked you better when you were a kid, least you were real Rio: Not helping yourself with the sick comments there Rio: but go off Buster: Keep hiding behind all that bullshit, babe Buster: Getting you so far Rio: Not the one who can't stand where they're from Buster: Where am I from? Take your pick Rio: God, we're really going x factor sob story with it now? Rio: Never had a Home, don't know who I am Buster: Fuck you Buster: I've got my pick of houses too like Rio: Good for you, babe Buster: You're the one who don't know where to put me, babe Buster: Is it don't come in here with that accent and that face or is it remember where you're from? Rio: I'm tired of trying when you ain't Buster: How am I not? Rio: What's it matter now Buster: Why say it then? Buster: It obviously still matters to you Rio: Not to you Buster: What would you know? Rio: Give me a sec and I'll pick out my faves Buster: You gonna take everything as Gospel or stick to dismissing it all 'cause I 'say a lot of things' Buster: You don't get to have it both ways Rio: Just you, is it? Buster: Whatever you say Rio: Pussy Buster: Fuck you Buster: I came here 'cause I wanted to tell her about us Buster: Without a repeat of what happened with your mate connecting the dots Rio: Why didn't you just say that Buster: 'Cause you never shut up long enough to let me Rio: Shut up Rio: you managed to say plenty else just fine Buster: You started it Rio: I swear to God Rio: not in the mood boy Buster: Seriously Buster: One mention of her and you're ready to attack everything about me Rio: You can't say you expected anything else Buster: Yeah, well, if you think so little of me, why should I bother Rio: So what, I'm not full of shit now? Rio: 'cos if that's what you're saying, have it in writing Rio: consolation but a prize nonetheless Buster: You're not wrong Rio: You don't reckon you owe me specifics on that? Buster: You're really gonna make me spell it all out? Rio: If you're comfortable leaving so much room for misinterpretation that's fine Buster: Don't act like you don't know exactly what I'm saying Rio: Who knows? Buster: Rio Buster: Come on Buster: I've smashed up enough shit around me for one convo Rio: Alright, alright Rio: Can't blame me for trying Rio: well, probably could but Buster: I don't Rio: Do Rio: but it's 50/50, yeah? Rio: It's just a fucking mess Buster: Not all of it Rio: No Rio: Sometimes that's all that doesn't seem a total mess but Rio: can't be right, can it Buster: It feels like it is Rio: I know Buster: You've never felt wrong to me Buster: I'm sorry for all that shit I just said Rio: Me too Rio: I can't even contemplate thinking of all the nasty and plain wrong shit I said, never mind reading it back, fuck Rio: but I am Buster: Don't Buster: I can't go back to lying to you and pretending like I don't want you Buster: All of that went on for so long Buster: I shouldn't have been trying to start again now Rio: I can't blame you Rio: not as if I haven't Rio: and it is the technically 'right' thing to do but Rio: be lying if I said I wasn't fucking miserable Rio: or that the thought of having to pretend, forever or near enough, whatever, didn't make me wanna die Buster: Don't say that Rio: Sorry Rio: not trying to put shit on you Rio: just the truth Buster: I know but I can't do this without you Rio: Not going anywhere Rio: people still need me for now, like Buster: Yeah Buster: I need you so much Buster: I'm so fucking tired, babe Rio: I know baby Rio: Where are you? Buster: Home Buster: In the wreckage Rio: Let me come help Buster: You don't have to Buster: Not actually your fault Rio: Let's be real Rio: 50/50, easy on that one Rio: Swear, no funny business Rio: Won't even look at you Buster: What if I want you to Rio: As long as you make that really clear, reckon we're out of that grey area Rio: Are you hurt or just the house Buster: Could literally crawl on broken glass for you right now if that's clear and dramatic enough, like Buster: But you know me, never hurt Rio: Don't Rio: On both counts Rio: I'm sorry Buster: I'm sorry Buster: Come away with me instead Buster: We can just leave and leave it all behind us Rio: Can we? Buster: I don't care Buster: All that matters is how many days you can give me Rio: I don't know, doesn't really matter, shit job anyway Rio: but one I work all the fucking time so, got plenty time off Buster: I'll film you, you can make more money that you would've Rio: That's alright, don't have to Rio: you can keep up with your uni work, yeah, but what are you going to tell her? Rio: casual or not, like Buster: Just let me, yeah? Buster: I'll tell her the truth Buster: I have to get away and she's not invited Buster: She's got her own uni work to worry about Rio: Nah Rio: True, alright Rio: let's go Buster: Pack for the sun Rio: Serious? Buster: I said I'm taking you away Buster: Not the next county over Rio: Buster Rio: you're sure you're sure? Buster: Babe Buster: Of course I am Rio: Okay Rio: not to be childish but no takebacks Rio: can't leave me stranded, like Buster: I'm booking our return flight now too Buster: Together Rio: I can't wait to be just us Buster: I know Buster: Me either Buster: The flight's not until tonight but it'll be worth waiting for Rio: Don't suppose you're gonna let me give you half? Buster: Fuck that Buster: I'm not telling you where we're going yet either Rio: Boo! Buster: You'll like it Buster: I promise Rio: I'll trust you Buster: Yeah? Rio: Yeah Rio: just this once Buster: You can make it a habit, like Buster: If you want Rio: You reckon? Buster: Yeah Rio: If I don't end up at Butlins, I'll think about it Buster: Give me some credit Rio: 😂 Rio: Don't knock Skeggy 'til you've tried it, babe Buster: If that's your way of saying you're gonna make me try it Buster: Don't Rio: Rude, let me unbook that... Rio: My bank balance will stretch a little further with an IOU hol, thanks you Buster: I love it when you owe me Rio: 😒 Buster: Why pout when you can pack Buster: 😂 Rio: Pack light so you have an excuse to shop whilst you're there Rio: plus someone has to sort your gaff or your parents are gonna think someone's kidnapped you Buster: Like I need an excuse to shop Buster: Pack light so there's less to take off Buster: How much do you reckon I'm worth to them in ransom demands? Rio: I mean, added bonus Rio: I'd say leave a note and see but Rio: might just be letting yourself in for a harsh wake up call there Buster: Let's be real we'd be back before they saw it Buster: I can't kidnap you for that long Rio: Sadly Rio: My 'rents just thinking I've found myself wherever the fuck we're going Rio: like Namaste, bitch Buster: Better than what they could be thinking Buster: How many rich white boys you got in your back pocket, like Buster: Make for an interesting dinner table convo Rio: Usually their fathers but Rio: don't need to cast those kinda aspersions on yours Rio: really get the crockery flying, like Buster: Don't tell me Buster: I don't wanna know Rio: 🤐 Rio: Jokes, babe Buster: I know Buster: But I hate thinking about it Rio: Sorry Rio: Don't Buster: It's not your fault Buster: It's them Buster: And me Rio: It's probably not as bad as you think, if that helps at all Buster: And I don't get to be jealous anyway, do I Rio: You can be Rio: but about as effective as mine Buster: If you wanna add hypocrite to the list of things I am, yeah Rio: Worse things to be Rio: Not done it properly for ages anyway Buster: Yeah Rio: Don't be mad Buster: I swear I ain't Buster: Not at you Rio: But I don't want you to be at all Rio: distraction time Buster: What do you want? Rio: I want you to be happy Buster: You make me feel so good, don't worry Rio: I'm going to make you feel like you've never felt, trust Rio: No one or nothing in the way Buster: Fuck Buster: I wish I'd booked an earlier flight now Rio: Patience Rio: can always kick it cliche and mile high Buster: Try and stop me Buster: I'll get us a blanket and fuck you right there, I don't care Rio: Boy Buster: I told you before, I can't help it Rio: I know Rio: but just know you're gonna be the death of me Rio: Fuck Buster: That's just the start of what I'm gonna do to you, babe Rio: I've missed you Rio: I know I saw you last night Buster: I know that don't matter Buster: 'Cause I feel it Rio: As long as you do too Rio: then that's alright Buster: I really fucking do Rio: Okay, Indie is sorted Rio: when can I come over Buster: Now Rio: Coming Buster: Good Buster: I need you here Rio: I need you Buster: I know Buster: But you can have me soon Rio: Not about to take no for an answer Buster: I'm not about to say no Rio: 💔 if you did Buster: I don't ever want to say no to you Rio: I have that affect Rio: who could say no to this face, right Buster: Christ knows I can't Rio: Don't worry, it's mutual Rio: So cute, like 😘 Buster: Don't start with that again, like Rio: You love it Rio: and that wittle face Rio: just the truth Buster: The truth is that I can't even be mad Rio: Yeah you know you cute boy Buster: I know you are Rio: Nah Rio: so 💪 me Buster: 😂 Buster: 'course you are babe Rio: 👊 gonna see Buster: You wanna play rough now, is it? Buster: Alright Rio: You needed so much convincing there, babe Buster: Can you blame me? Rio: No, you know how I like it Buster: I know how you love it Rio: Stop 😳 Buster: You get me so worked up, I'm only playing fair Rio: When we ever played fair? Buster: Trying to be so good for you now though Buster: 😇 Rio: Okay babe Rio: gonna have fun coming for your halo then Buster: You know it Rio: if i'm really nice can i have a clue where we going Buster: How nice are we talking about? Rio: Got a lot to make up for Rio: you tell me how nice i need to be Buster: I've gotta give you clues to that too? Buster: I reckon you know exactly what to do Rio: Alright Rio: Lemme unpack one of your surprises for now Buster: Fuck Buster: No way I'm arguing Rio: You ain't even seen it yet Buster: I don't need to Rio: Put it back then, shall I? Buster: You know that's not what I meant Rio: 😂 Buster: I want it everything you can give me Rio: You can have it all Rio: I've told you, it's yours Buster: Swear Rio: Cross my heart Buster: How far away are you? Rio: Not far Rio: if this thing's as hard to take off as it was to get on you're gonna be mad tho Buster: it's coming off even if I have to rip it Rio: you better not its expensive Buster: I'll replace it Rio: I got it like that, huh daddy? Buster: It's the least I can do Buster: You know I want you to have everything Rio: Such a gentleman yeah Buster: Last thing on my mind right now Rio: I'll keep that to myself Buster: Not for long, you'll be letting my neighbours in on all our secrets like Rio: If you really care, can think of a few ways you can shut me up Buster: Yeah? Buster: Tell me Rio: Well you can grab me by the throat or fuck it Rio: choice is yours, like Buster: Grabbing you anywhere just makes you louder but since the choice is mine and I don't give a fuck who hears us Rio: Glad I'm in the backseat not the driver's again Buster: And I'm glad my house is empty 'cause I'm gonna have to fuck you in every room Rio: 🤤 Rio: Gotta make tonigh come faster somehow Buster: Exactly Buster: As long as you don't Buster: I wanna take my time with you, babe Rio: Is that an order? Buster: Did it sound like one? Rio: Gonna have to be 'cos I can't make no promises Rio: Unless you let me have the first for free, you can watch Buster: Alright Buster: 'Cause I'm such a gent like Rio: Of course Rio: then I'll know you're definitely as needy as I am Buster: You don't already? Rio: Got to be sure Rio: How embarrassing to be the only desperate one, like Buster: [Sends pics] Buster: Your hero aren't I Buster: Are you sure yet? Rio: Sure I need this cabbie to step on it Rio: fucking hell, Buster Buster: You gotta stop saying my name when you aren't here Rio: Just making it up for all the times I couldn't say it Buster: Jesus, Rio Rio: Told you I missed you Buster: I already believed you, baby Rio: Maybe this time you won't forget Buster: I never did Rio: Don't leave me again okay? Buster: I won't Buster: I can't Rio: I swear I'll let you go one day Rio: just not yet Buster: Don't Rio: I know, let's not talk about it Buster: I'm telling you, don't let me go, okay? Rio: I can keep you? Buster: Nothing makes sense without you Buster: Just stay, yeah? Rio: Yeah Rio: I don't want to go either Buster: Good Rio: Let me in Rio: Freezing Buster: One second

Rio & Buster

Rio: 😞 Rio: Well, Indie was so fucked she didn't even remember you being there.. soz you were so unforgettable, babe Rio: You get home alright? Buster: Always am, babe 😏 Even if it's the one time I'd rather be without the -un Buster: Course Rio: Ugh, trust you to run with a typo! 😂 Rio: I clued her in but she is not feeling adequately sorry for it, like Rio: didn't clue her in THAT hard, fuck but you know 😒 Buster: Trust you to make it Buster: Both of you missing me that bad already, yeah? Rio: She is, making me wanna slap her if she weren't so clueless what's she's saying 🙄 Bless Rio: and my fingers slipped, what of it boy Buster: At least you don't need to be jealous of her Buster: Hot as that'd be Buster: UNsurprised, you make a habit of that around me, like 😏 Rio: Apparently, I am, like 🤷 Rio: Full of it, she is Rio: too alike, you two, never work Rio: Oh, did she bite you, btw? She's got a loose tooth, how, I ask you... Buster: Well she's your lil mate, so again, unsurprised all around Buster: But nah, bite mark free Buster: Keep sleuthing that one Rio: Not even gonna argue Rio: more of a mini-me than any of my other sibs 😚 Rio: I daren't ask around tbh, we've secured she ain't knocked up, I'll take that so we'll just book the dentist appointment and forget all about it, I reckon Buster: Yeah, she's cockblocked me too now Buster: Thank Christ nobody could've said THAT kid's mine Buster: Don't need another coming Rio: I'm not on team cockblock anymore! Rio: Trust, no one's madder than me Rio: Don't even play that is literally the LAST thing I need on top of everything else Rio: Can you imagine? No wonder Nan had a coronary, if Indie was about to be a Ma...Lawd o mercy Buster: Maybe the dentist'll sort her head out Buster: Nobody's having fun there Buster: Not saying payback for ruining the mood but I'll still take it, cheers Rio: Harsh but Rio: feeling it 😂 Rio: even Mums get to be bitches, yeah? Buster: They're the best at it Buster: Have you met mine? Rio: Not saying you deserve it but Rio: 😉 Buster: Fuck off Buster: You know I deserved last night and that didn't happen Rio: I know Rio: Universe just upping the stakes Rio: Only means I've gotta make it up to you harder when it finally happens Buster: You better Buster: When I come back, clear the fucking schedule Rio: Duh Rio: You best come for AT LEAST a weekend Buster: You'll have to give yourself a week to recover even then Rio: 😏 Rio: Big talk but that's yet to be seen Buster: Trust me, it ain't Rio: Don't tease me when you've only just left Rio: When do you next have an excuse to be back? Buster: Not even trying to it's just Buster: Fuck Buster: Already working on it. Get thinking too, family this big there's gotta be something soon, like Rio: Check the schedule 'fore I clear it, no probs Rio: but I know Rio: I promise I feel it too Rio: [Sends photographic evidence] Buster: What happened to no teasing when I've only just left? Rio: You started it Buster: Doesn't mean you have to finish me off Rio: That's EXACTLY what it means Rio: Hope you're actually back and not still on the plane 😂 Don't mile high without me Buster: Not trying to almost crash a plane and a car in such a short space of time Buster: Bit rude to take the plane down with how desperate you are to go down on me Rio: Gotta gain some self-control boy Rio: getting dangerous now Buster: Don't Buster: Self control is the ultimate cockblock Buster: No going back Rio: You reckon? Buster: Yeah Rio: Had to see Chlo yet? Buster: She's been trying to sext me Buster: So nah Rio: 😬 Rio: Oh honey, no Buster: If she had any game that'd be one thing but she ain't Rio: I can only imagine the levels of vanilla Buster: And don't bother 'cause whatever you reckon it's worse Rio: Ick, yeah I'll save my daydreaming for better, tah Rio: aren't you glad to be back in London town? 😂 Buster: Yeah 'course Buster: Fuck Dublin. Nothing there like Rio: Just decent craic and people, like Rio: but nah, the eye, cracking stuff that Rio: Please 😜 Buster: 😂 Buster: You not planning to visit then? Fine Rio: Can't really, can I Rio: Oh hi guys, just passing Rio: Plus, clearly need to keep a better eye on Indie Buster: Who knows who she might make a move on next Rio: She ain't even shamed, it's terrible 😂 she asked if you were into it Rio: took the liberty of saying no on your behalf so you can't say nothing Buster: Cheers Buster: I'd usually call you out but it's Indie like Rio: 😒 yeah, fight me on that one and we're gonna have trouble Buster: Hot as you are when you're angry, nah Rio: You say that now Rio: Wanna put it to the test? 🥊 Buster: Not yet Rio: Softie Buster: Shut up Buster: You know I ain't when I'm around you Buster: Can't say you've forgotten last night like Indie has Rio: I wish Rio: Can't stop remembering it, like Buster: Yeah? Rio: Yeah Rio: Then I remember how it ended, or didn't Rio: and I'm back to square one Buster: So much for the bathroom memories Buster: Holding Indie's hair back wasn't the one, like Rio: 🤢 Rio: boner killer if ever there was Rio: not, according to her but our vibe was DOA Buster: What? She got form at that has she? Nice Buster: Not my kink like but Rio: Coulda been in your mouth appaz Rio: Lucky you're tall Buster: Fucking hell Buster: Glad I left when I did Buster: Also not, you know but Rio: Yeah Rio: Probably could've left 'em at it and carried on Rio: but even my captivating charm has got limits Rio: 16 year old lads on one is not ideally how I want this going down Buster: Now you tell me Buster: Same though, unsurprisingly Rio: Just saying Rio: She'd never have known, messy bitch Rio: Too old for that shit, huh dad? Buster: Fuck off Buster: I ain't marrying you like Buster: The honeymoon would be worth it but couldn't hack the rest Rio: 😏 Whatever, you got the spawn to prove it Rio: Protest all you like Buster: The attitude's all yours though, ma Rio: Shut up Rio: Just 'cos you were too turned on to deal with the situation effectively Rio: 2nd time btw Rio: not that I'm counting Buster: Not my fault you're such a MILF Rio: 😂 that is so not my category Rio: friggin' cheek Buster: And it's not like you weren't, there was just nothing to prove how turned on you were to Indie and the lads Rio: Your word against mine, babe 😉 Buster: Yeah? Buster: I'll make you say it, trust me Rio: Wish you would Buster: Wish I could right now Rio: Fucking real life getting in the way Buster: Nothing but Chlo looming over me could stop me Buster: Trust her to be descending on my pad Rio: Big enough to hide Rio: just no seek Buster: My dad told her my flight info. Fucking traitor Buster: Can't even pretend I'm not back Rio: Awkward Rio: Feel that shotgun barrel between your shoulder blades? Rio: Meant to be her 'rents, not yours Buster: Don't Buster: Like yeah she said it was an emergency and she had to know, but how clueless is he Buster: Fuck's sake Rio: Clearly your Ma ain't as psycho as she seems Rio: Chlo's a special breed Buster: Christ. She really is Rio: Don't envy you at all Rio: my ex's antics seem ridiculously tame in comparison Buster: Have you heard from the latest? Rio: Oh yeah Rio: my own fault for repeating but truly opened the floodgates there Buster: Third time's the charm, ain't that what they say Rio: He's gonna magically get better, is he? Rio: I doubt that Rio: Indie reckons I gotta diversify anyway, hit that target demographic Buster: You could teach him Buster: Proper ma moves Rio: Some shit can't be taught, McKenna Rio: like not being a total twat Buster: Is he giving you grief? Buster: I'll sort it if he is Rio: Love a bit of chivalry, don't you Rio: Nah, he just is one, its nothing personal Buster: I mean it, Rio. Anyone is. Tell me and they won't Rio: You're cute Rio: I can handle myself though, you don't need to worry Buster: I ain't worried, just saying Rio: Shh Buster: You gonna make me? Rio: Such hard work, boy Rio: Give it my best shot across like Buster: You love it Buster: Always working like Rio: Got bills to pay 'til Indie can herself Buster: Keep the hustle going, babe Buster: I gotta run, Chlo's here Rio: Enjoy Rio: Tell her I said hiya Buster: Hey Rio: You're alive then Rio: How was it? Buster: Course Buster: Take more than her to kill my vibe Buster: How are you? Rather hear that Rio: You sure Rio: No shame in it Rio: She's...a lot Rio: I'm cool, getting ready for a shift Buster: It's my own fault, can't be crying over it, can I? Rio: 'Course you can Rio: Mixed reviews of judgment and lack of sympathy with the rest but I ain't gonna come at you with either Rio: better to rant here than to her, init Buster: Yeah Buster: Not like she'd listen but I'd know what I said Rio: So, still acting like she deaf blind n dumb then? Buster: About me and her at least Buster: I can't make it clearer Buster: Might have to fuck you in front of her, sorry like Rio: Steady on, like Rio: How has she got this far in life being so delusional? I blame the parents Rio: does she legit think she can gaslight you into a relationship like babe Rio: what's the idea here Buster: They don't stock brains in YSL Buster: I can't keep at this with her Rio: Its shit Rio: and you thought I played games Rio: got to find her breaking point with wanting you, but you can't go so far that she will try and withhold the kid from you as punishment Rio: gotta find the line before you can toe it like Buster: Yeah Buster: Never calling you a tryhard again, babe Rio: Definitely won't stick to that but Rio: happily let her take the title and crown Rio: maybe when her hormones quiet down she'll be better? ehh, comforting lie anyone? Buster: Maybe Buster: They better, I'm done with this shit Rio: Not long to go now Buster: All I do is wait now Buster: Sick of it Rio: I know Rio: Gotta let the kid finish cooking though, then you'll have Uni too Rio: it'll all pay off Buster: I know Rio: Try and enjoy your last summer of freedom, yeah? Buster: Yeah Buster: No pressure Rio: Gotta get used to it Rio: May as well be now Buster: Cheers Buster: Feel so much better now like Rio: You want me to bullshit you? Rio: That's the life you want, right? Pressure is your rocket fuel, like Buster: I'm just playing Rio: Oh, then that's the spirit Buster: 😏 Rio: Such a headfuck Buster: Says you, babe Rio: I'm not having a kid, like Rio: we all almost made it to adulthood Buster: There's always one fucking it up for the rest Buster: Why not me? Rio: Why not Rio: probably fucked up some bets, won others Buster: I'll take that Rio: Defending my honour and taking the first bullet Rio: What a doll Buster: Like you said, chivalry's my thing Rio: If it works for ya Rio: Not complaining Buster: You're not complaining cause it works for you too Rio: Maybe Buster: Can't deny it, babe Rio: Can and will Buster: Not for much longer Rio: Promises, promises, McKenna Buster: You know I'll keep 'em Rio: You've gotta at this point Rio: Can't not happen Buster: Understatement Rio: even if its just once Buster: Can you handle that? Rio: If I have to Rio: try and be a good girl about it Buster: You've got as much chance of that as you have of ignoring me ever Rio: I reckon that's just a cover for how little faith you've got in yourself on that one Rio: 🤷 Buster: My word against yours, babe Rio: We both know the truth, though Buster: Yeah? Buster: What do you reckon Rio: I reckon we both know once ain't gon' be enough Buster: Especially if we do it right Rio: Dunno how else to do it, babe Buster: Good Rio: Why is it you always see the people you don't wanna out, like Rio: catch me 'changing the barrel' multiple times Buster: Which cunt is it tonight like? Rio: Every cunt Rio: Told you off for dissing but genuinely sick of Dubo atm Rio: every punter's a comedian, or reckons they know where Edie is but then gives fuck all useful information actually Buster: Come here Buster: I know you don't wanna leave her but we can still keep tabs the same Rio: I know you're right, what use am I actually being, like Rio: but Rio: Idk, it don't matter Buster: Tell me Rio: Well, I know she didn't mean it how she said it, 'cos she took it back straight away Rio: but Indie says I'm only sticking around 'cos I'm guilty, and when I feel better, I'll fuck off Rio: and I don't want her to think I don't feel guilty Rio: or that I'm leaving her Buster: Fuck Buster: It's shit that you had to hear it though Rio: I'd rather she said it than silently thought it but Rio: yeah Buster: You've got nothing to feel guilty about, you know that, yeah? Rio: Don't lie Buster: I'm not Rio: Right Rio: Well, stop being nice then Buster: Say it first Buster: You've done nothing wrong Rio: I can't, Buster Buster: You won't. Different thing Buster: You can Rio: I don't wanna lie Rio: in general but especially just so I kid myself Rio: what's the point Buster: It ain't a lie, babe Buster: I promise you Rio: Certainly didn't help the situation did it Rio: what I do, fuck shit up for the rest 'cos I can't keep my knickers up Buster: Shut up Buster: That's the lie there Buster: They'd be fucked without you and you know it Rio: Or I'd be fucked without them Rio: am fucked, let's face it Buster: Bullshit Buster: You're perfect, remember? Rio: Only when we're playing Buster: You know that ain't true Rio: S'alright Rio: I've had my bathroom breakdown, mascara barely touched, we're good to go Buster: One of these days you're gonna believe me Rio: Never Rio: but its fun pretending with you Buster: I've told you before, you're real Buster: And how good you look is too real Rio: Why can't you be a dick to me Rio: I'd know how to deal with that Buster: I don't want to Rio: Selfish Buster: Not when it proper counts Rio: Humble brag Rio: thanks for the heads up or this would be really awkward and disappointing Buster: Thrive under pressure, remember? Buster: No worries Rio: You ain't worried, I know Rio: Know you're no scared virgin with it Buster: Nor you Rio: One thing I ain't scared of Buster: Rio Buster: You can tell me whatever, you know Rio: Yeah? Rio: that part of the deal now? Buster: If you want Rio: I dunno, you'll have to handle the paperwork Rio: wanna distract you from the pressure, not add more Buster: Why not? Thrive on it Buster: And I ain't scared of nothing so Rio: Fine line, babe Buster: I can walk it Rio: You're so sure, huh? Buster: Yeah Rio: Shouldn't be surprised Rio: cocky bastard Buster: No arguments here Rio: Only 'cos you're Mr. Nice Guy all of a sudden Rio: don't be TOO nice, yeah? Buster: You wanna fight, babe 🥊 Go on Rio: Not exactly what I had in mind Rio: submission is more than willing, like Buster: It's not gonna be that easy Rio: Why not? You don't wanna give me what I deserve? Buster: I don't wanna just give you anything Buster: Where's the fun in that Rio: 🤤 Rio: that's the Buster I want Buster: How bad Rio: You still gotta ask? Rio: I do need to work harder to show you Buster: I don't have to Buster: Just want to Rio: I get it Rio: I'm nowhere near tired of hearing it either Rio: tired of it being all chat though fr 😒 Buster: I feel that too Buster: Soon, I swear Rio: Promise? Rio: To the point I don't even fucking care, if people keep getting in the way then they only got themselves to blame Buster: Yeah Buster: We've held back long enough Buster: Too fucking long Rio: Practically a saint over here Rio: and a nun Buster: You better not be Rio: Yeah, found Jesus in the time it took yas Rio: and he's a top ride, like Buster: 😂